As I may have mentioned, we have a ferrell cat, "Mama Kitty" that has been a fixture for about three years. She lives outside year round but except for kitty food we put out for her, she remains mostly wild and self sufficient, a very capable huntress. Most my efforts to domesticate her had till recently, resulted in kitty evasion of the predator, prey kind. With patience and persistence she has warmed to me in small steps to the point now of openly displaying affection towards me. The most recent such display however is somewhat over the top.
She now will approach for a head scratch or tummy rub if she is in the mood. When I come home at night, she is often there because she knows I will invite her in for a munch from her feed dish which is brought in to protect from freeloading possums, skunks and other night creatures. A couple weeks ago I brought her and her food dish into my room so she could munch then spend the night cuddled with me. This ritual has been repeated often since. Because the weather has warmed, I have taken to leaving the sliding glass door of my room open. She has discovered how to pull the screen open just enough for her to come and go as she pleases. It is not unusual for her to leave and return several times through the night.
Last night was no different, that is, until the morning. When I awoke, she was gone. I climbed out of bed and saw something on the floor in the dim colorless first light of dawn. It was just far enough from my bed that it was safe from being stepped on. It was small, and about the size and shape of the closed fist of a child. There was something at one end that gave an odd outline. Laying there by itself, it prompted a closer inspection. Stepping over, reaching to the light on my desk, I was startled by its suddenly lit discovery.
You may have guessed by now that it was a medium sized mouse, quite immobile but not yet effected by the rigor that follows a fresh fatal kitty encounter. The scene unique and bizarre caused a startled moment of panic followed by a stifled laugh; Arrayed at rodent posterior was a sprig of what appeared to be basil or some green herb artfully placed as if waiting to be featured on the cover of Gourmet Magazine. I was tempted to photograph it but my revulsion won out, the prize was quickly dispatched to the trash can.
After all it is the thought that counts.
