Living a farm life has always given me a new meaning to the word "survival".
We have outdoor cats. The cats are king.
The cats are top predators. Nothing is safe when a cat is around. I can't even make the statement of "nothing SMALLER is safe when the cats are around" because I've seen the cats come home with field rabbits (dang near as big as them) hanging from their jaws.
It's amazing the sick, twisted, sense of "normalcy" that has developed in me from seeing horrible stuff on a continual basis. Like the day before yesterday. I saw that one of the cats came back from the field with a rabbit that was so large, I thought it was carrying another cat! There of course wasn't much of anything I could have done about it, what's done is done and cannot be undone. So I left the cat to have its prize catch.
They actually do a pretty good job of keeping their dinner table clean, and they always consume what they kill. The downside is that there are certain parts that they just don't eat, and I have to deal with the aftermath. On rabbits, they don't eat feet or tails. Just this morning I asked my daughter to pick up the back feet and the tail that we seem to keep walking around on the deck. (again, sick sense of "normalcy") She didn't have an issue with it, they aren't "macabre" looking, they are just lil rabbit feet/fluffy tail. I was sitting in the kitchen at the time (starting on this blog) when she "danced" the feet in front of the glass patio door as a joke.
Do I need to mention that sick sense of normalcy again???
One thing I've certainly learned over the years is to stop filling the "cat buffet" aka: wild bird feeders. They would sit underneath the feeders for hours on end waiting for a snack. Another thing I've learned is that cats love to catch and eat frogs but they do not eat the bellies. Our walkways are always loaded with frog bellies. Another thing I've learned is that a cat can eat a rat at lightening speed. I've watched one take less than a minute to narf down a full sized field rat.
On that note...
Late last night, while sitting on my outdoor swing I watched one of my cats carry a small field mouse up from the open field. She was making her usual "meow" as to let the world know what a good job she had done. When she reached the backyard she put the small mouse down. Long behold it was unscathed and still alive! And so I sat and watched the action play out...
The original cat that caught the mouse quickly lost interest in it. Meanwhile, one of my other cats (an incredible mouser) came in to take over where the first cat failed. The mouse would try to run, the cat would crouch down wait, let it run a bit, and then pounce on it. The mouse would wiggle free and try to flee. Again, the cat did the same as before; crouch, watch, pounce. I watched that same action occur over and over for a few minutes.
and then....
That little mouse, though certainly exhausted, took a stance. It had decided in THAT moment that it will not accept its fate to lay down and die. It had decided to fight. That little mouse weighing no more than an ounce, decided to take on a 10lb cat head on. The cat would grab the mouse with its mouth, then the mouse would wiggle like it was on fire, and bite until the cat dropped it. Each time the mouse wiggled free, it would run a little closer towards the safe haven of the shed. Yet again the cat would grab it- it too determined to win. Once the cat had realized that it no longer was a good idea to pick up the mouse (for each time doing so caused the cat great pain) There was fight of epic proportion. The mouse stood on his little hind legs and held his ground. While standing straight up, he bit the cat in the nose each time the cat grew near. And when the cat retreated an inch or two, the little mouse in all of his glory, would run at the cat to bite HIM. Each movement by the little mouse was strategic, moving him closer and closer to his freedom of the shed...
Did the mouse get away?? Did the mouse live to see another day?? Did the mouse get a second chance at life??
YES!!!!!!!!
