The night started off like any other – I was settled down in my rocking chair watching TV and nursing Z-Man to sleep. He was such a good baby at bedtime, all I had to do was nurse and cuddle him for about half an hour and by 10:00 he was just as ready for bed as Teacher and I were.
Kippy strolled into the living room with a toy mouse in his mouth.
Kippy is the second-oldest of our cats, and officially Teacher’s cat although he’s shown a distinct preference for Angel Face from the day he entered the house. His full name is Kipling – Teacher was reading “The Jungle Book” by Rudyard Kipling when we got the cat and decided to name him after the author.
“Hmm, that’s strange; that mouse still has a tail.” I thought idly as Kippy trotted past.
Unlike Murphy, who lives and breathes for sparkle balls, Kippy’s favorite toy is a grey mouse and he always – ALWAYS – chews the tails off first thing.
“Why is he growling?” I thought next, “That’s not like him at all.” I craned my head to take a closer look.
The mouse twitched.
O.M.G. It’s a REAL mouse! And it’s still ALIVE!
Alarmed by my cries Teacher hurried into the living room.
“Kippy has a mouse and it’s ALIVE!”
Teacher took one look at the cat, then chased him out of the living room and into the kitchen. I stayed right where I was, with my feet up on the footstool. No way was I putting my feet on the floor with a mouse in the house! Besides, Z-Man was almost asleep anyway.
After a few moments I heard Teacher’s voice, “Good boy! Good boy Kippy!” Then I heard the sound of kitty treats hitting the floor.
Teacher appeared in the doorway, “Kippy took care of it.”
“Did he kill it? Where is it now?” I hadn’t heard the toilet flushing or the outside door opening.
“Yup! He killed it, then he ate it.” Teacher replied.
“The whole thing??” I asked. “Nothing left anywhere?”
My Aunt Betty used to tell stories of how their cat would leave dead critters in their shoes as love offerings. I did NOT want to find a dead mouse – or parts of a dead mouse – in one of my shoes, and I did NOT want to clean mouse guts – or pieces and parts – off the floor.
“The whole thing, tail and all.” He replied, “It’s like kitty potato chips; crunchy.” He grinned.
As much as I didn’t want to think about Kippy killing and eating the mouse I was glad he did.
I didn’t want any mice – dead or alive – in my house, and definitely didn’t want to find mouse parts anywhere. I was confident that if any other mice snuck into the house Kippy would hunt them down, kill them, and dispose of the bodies for me
Wonderful story, well told! They’re so proud of it when they catch something, and when they bring it to you as a love offering!
They sure are – kind of like toddlers when they finally fish that pesky booger out! 😉
LOL – too true, Amy Sue! I just got my cats new catnip mice, and it’s hilarious to watch the rolling around and rubbing on the mouse!