I really should be doing something other than putting several posts on here today. In fact, I was just about to do something constructive and was just finishing up my coffee before I started when I witnessed something funny, so I figured I'd put up one last post before I begin.
A few months ago, M&O gave me (or rather C-Rex) a gift bag welcoming him into my home. In it was a book called "Do Cats Think" (a book originally published over twenty years ago, but still an intriguing read for cat owners), a water dish, a food dish, a floor mat to set said dishes upon, and lastly, a life-size stuffed rat.
The last item instantly became C-Rex's favorite thing to play with. At once, he embraced it with joy, having something to repeatedly stalk and "kill". It really amazed me at how much and how quickly natural instinct comes to a kitten. When I first pulled it out of the bag, I waved it excitedly over him and his eyes lit up at the sight of something else with four legs and a tail. I tossed it across the room and, like a cartoon character, his legs ran in place on the ceramic tiled floor in the kitchen before his footing finally grabbed hold and he sped out of the room and raced toward his prey. He leaped into the air and, in one smooth motion, crashed down upon the rat, snatching it between his paws. He flipped onto his back and clamped his teeth down upon the exposed neck of his victim. I watched in amused astonishment as he gnawed at the toy, grasped firmly in his grip, and proceeded to kick it repeatedly with his back legs.
He then tossed it to the side, flipping back onto his feet, and slowly walked away, glancing behind him every few steps to make sure the rat was still there. Suddenly, he dove behind the leg of the diningroom table, his head low, and stared intensely across the hardwood floor at his prey. I don't know if, in his mind, he saw the rat move or maybe heard a pained cry, but he darted out from behind the table leg, leaped through the air with the precision and grace of a figure skater going for the gold, and landed once again on the unsuspecting rodent, catching it between his teeth. I laughed out loud and C-Rex looked up at me as if to say: "Yeah. Laugh all you want, but at least I won't go hungry." At this point, I was just happy that there was something other than my ankle that would occupy his time.
But it wasn't until later that I began thinking more about the kitten's natural instinct kicking in. I was sitting on the couch watching television when I heard C-Rex take off running. This was a few days after M&O gave me...err...us the bag of goodies, so I was sure he was stalking the poor stuffed rat. A few minutes later, C-Rex walked past me, his tail straight up in the air as if about to raise a victorious flag, and the stuffed rat dangling from his mouth. Now, I noticed this a few times over the past couple of days but now, watching his proud display of conquer, something dawned on me. Every time he played with the rat and "killed" it, he picked it up by the throat; never by the tail, never by the back, never by the head. Always by the throat, his eye teeth sinking into the neck. Seeing that the cat was only three months old at the time, I found this incredibly fascinating. This domesticated animal, never seeing the outside world except through a pane of glass, knew instinctively how to kill.
A few months have now passed and, although I'm used to his running around the house, I'm amazed at how much enjoyment C-Rex gets out of repeatedly "killing" this rat. And every time, he picks it up by the throat and proudly walks off to another part of the house. He also likes to play fetch with it. I'll be sitting on the sofa and all of a sudden he jumps up onto the over-0stuffed arm, rat clenched between his teeth, and drops it at my hand. I'll pick it up and toss it onto the stairs. An eager murmur will escape C-Rex as he jumps from the sofa and catches the rat. Sometimes he brings it right back, ready to go after it again. Other times, he'll play with it on the steps, softly pawing at it, almost challenging it to make a run for it, before picking it up by the throat and bringing it back to me.
Now, I know the above is a long-winded story, but I felt that an in-depth background leading up to what made me write this post was needed and, quite frankly, this was something else about the cat's relationship with the rat I find very intriguing and, as I sit at my desk and look at the cover of the book M&O gave me ("Do Cats Think"), I come to realize that yes, yes they do think. I just find it a little unsettling that my cat tends to think like a serial killer...
As I said at the beginning, I was finishing my coffee and mentally preparing myself to get some of the endless chores around the house done, when something caught my eye.
Every once in awhile, I would come home from work or wake up in the morning and find the rat in the kitchen next to C-Rex's water dish. Often times the stuffed animal would be wet and I figured that the cat walks around the house with this thing dangling from his mouth so often that he completely forgot about it when he went to get a drink of water.
Boy, was I wrong...
As I sat there drinking my coffee, I watched C-Rex walk into the kitchen, the rat dangling from his mouth. He gingerly set the rat down on the rim of his water dish and then sat down next to it, never taking his eyes from the grey rodent. The rat's head hung out over the water, it's felt eyes staring blankly into space. C-Rex, stared down at it for a few more seconds before slowly raising his paw and softly placing it on the rat's face.
And then, slowly...Maniacally...deliberately, he pushed the rat's head under water, deep enough to cover the mouth and nose, but still able to keep his own paw dry. He held it there, never taking his eyes away.
Finally I said: "What do you think you're doing?"
He continued on.
"Hey!" I said, my tone alittle sharper.
Although his paw remained on top of the drowned rat, he slowly looked up at me and, maybe it was just my imagination playing tricks on me, but I can swear to this: his eyes appeared to be glazed over and unfocused, as if he were in some sort of trance and...he...he...he appeared to be...smiling.
My God, I've adopted Ted Bundy!!!
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