I mentioned Case has started playing "kill" on my socks, dragging a couple a day to a grisly death in the living room (or wherever I'm sitting). Right after one kill I heard her go out through the cat door and in less than 5 minutes she makes her growling entry. I look up expecting another sock kill but, Noooo! She's brought in a chipmunk. Now this -is- unusual because I've watched this kid hunt. Last summer, while the other cats caught grasshoppers (even Loos caught and ate one!) Case would pounce and look about hopefully while the grasshopper bounded away. The chippie musta walked right into her mouth, clawless and almost toothless that she is. It's mortally wounded but Beastie immediately took over so Nature's purpose was served (The Beast needs a lot of protein at this point, more than he can eat). And this morning there were no fewer than 6 socks in the kitchen ... Case expecting a chipmunk for each evidently.

After night fell I heard a different meow outside; thinking it's the feral who shows up only once or twice a season since Willie took up residence and chased GQ off, I called at the front door then heard the call again at the back door; when I opened it a small cat or kitten took off like a bullet into the woods. This is unusual, I'm 500 feet from the nearest house which has no cat. Another day perhaps.

All of my cats wait to lick the plate and I enjoy sharing food with them, bonding, and Willie's the lone holdout - not deigning even to check tidbits even after the rare meat dishes. But yesterday and this morning he licked the porridge bowl clean which the other cats don't usually touch. Who can figure? Yesterday I had a wildly doctored tomato-vegetable soup, hot enough to burn. I sadistically put the bowl down for expectant Case who took a few licks, to my surprise, then sauntered off calmly. Too calmly. I checked. She went straight for the food dishes to get the taste out, no food, so the water bowl.

Copyright © Norm deCarteret
May 15, 2002