I went to get our supper (calamari) from the freezer, and discovered our dear cats had brought in a large rat. This is not, per se, unusual. But rat in question was not yet dead. It was also not, as is usual in these cases, attended by cats, playing with it. Now, I am accustomed to disposing of half-eaten rodents. The cats are doing a public service here as they're introduced menaces to indigenous wildlife, crops, our food, and our cats haven't taken any birds as yet. But I'm not one of the ilk that likes to see something suffer, and tend to kill things that have to die quickly. Except this would make a bloody mess indoors of the carpet... and picking it up would probably get me bitten. So I thought - Bet it's Duchess, she's the prime ratter, but Robin occassionally manages a mouse (and biting her staff when they try and give her pills...) And this'll be a big treat for her. So I transported Robin to the rat. Never have I seen such selective blindness! Two microns from her nose, and it was "rat? what rat?" as she left arching her tail superciliosly... so Duchy was next. Rat looks at her. Duchess gives it a look of benign disinterest and stalks off to her kitty kibble, ignoring it. So I got an old tin, flicked it into that, took it outside, killed it and tossed as far over the fence as possible.
And there was Batman eagerly attacking the trailing edge of a dogblanket B was carrying.
Cats!
You can rely on them.
Not.
I think that's why I love cats so. They are so contrary and never do what you expect. :)
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