The Huntress

My cat is a born hunter. Which isn't always a bad thing. I can pretty much rule out ever having to worry about rats or mice. And she usually takes out any June bugs pretty quickly as well.

But then there's the other critters. As a mostly-vegetarian-who-eats-fish and who does it out of a guilty conscience rather than for health reasons, I have major animal death issues. So suffice it to say that I was disturbed the first time my cat brought a snake into the house through the doggy door and proceeded to play with it. Now I'm not a snake fan. In fact, I'm one of those people who have nightmares about the floor being covered with snakes and there's no way for me to cross it. But it's still a living creature and doesn't really deserve to be tossed about like a, well, catnip mouse.

Needless to say, if I can catch her with one that's still alive, I'll get it away from her and put it in the front yard where it has a chance to get away. Same with geckos and other lizards that she catches.

Last night, my cat ramped it up to a whole new level with a bird. I know you shouldn't like animals better just because they're cute and cuddly, but there it is. The bird just broke my heart. And I know that it's in my cat's nature to hunt and that she's not doing it because she's a cold-hearted killer, but that didn't make me feel any better. All I could think of was "why oh why did I give up red wine for Lent??????"