The Gorgeous Killer in our Family

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The boy cat anticipates his next meal

Of our three pets, the 15 year old boy cat remains the most helpful.   We got him when he could fit in the cup of my hand and the children were very young and too competitive with one another to agree upon a name.   As a single mom with four kids, a house and a job, I was too tired to push cooperation on something as relatively insignificant as the name of a kitten, so we kept putting it off until “the boy cat” became the permanent moniker.

The boy cat had the run of the house for six years until Eika the german shepherd moved in and sent the cat into the garage for good.  No more sleeping cat nose to nose at night in the bed, his paw often resting over my neck like a person.  The dogs replaced him.

Until about two years ago, the cat spent most of the good weather in the woods behind our house, coming around late in the day for a dish full of food and some water.  But he’s getting old now and like everyone on the dark side of mid life, he’s slowing down and reluctant to get outside.

I’ve also noticed over the last year that there’s something wrong with the part of his brain that regulates appetite.  He apparently never knows he’s already eaten and keeps asking for more.

The kids assume I’m too preoccupied with my little projects to notice a starving cat and they get him another plastic container full of food every time they walk by, which only makes him obese and unable to outrun the dogs who would love to make a meal out of him.

Last night I learned while the cat may be slowing down, he’s still a highly efficient killing machine.  In an apparent bid to impress me and loosen my grip on the food, the cat delivered two freshly killed mice right on the carpet runner where we come and go from the garage, dead center and impossible to miss.  He could have killed them and left them at the scene of the murder, but instead he carried them to where I was guaranteed to see them.

“Good cat” I purred.  ”You’re still killing stuff and earning your keep, even if in your mind you’re being punished with a severe pay cut”.

I know the subject of usefulness is up for serious debate among pet owners and I invite your opinions on this.  After all, how could any pet be more useful than a dog who loves unconditionally and demonstrates a desperate desire to please, no matter how little is thrown his way?  Believe me, I see the value of a family member like that.

Cats love conditionally.  Stop feeding them and see what happens.  They’ll cut their losses and leave.  Except for the boy cat.  He sticks around through famine and even offers up an occasional dead rodent to show me he’s worth more food.

“Never mind, boy cat.  Now that I’m back from Cape Cod and in charge of the rations, you’re slimming down nicely once again.  You’re sleek, muscular and shiny, a domesticated panther not far from your wild evolutionary roots”.

Murder victim number 1

Murder victim number 2

Part diety, part assassin; an exquisite killer in the family.

Tagged as: cats, pets