Observations of a Frustrated Cat Owner
The bell didn’t work...
Two more baby rabbits were quickly dispatched this past week and their remains left on my deck as gifts for our amusement and admiration. I am often amazed at the contractions of this world. How can something as pretty and loving as our little white cat, Kittyboo, be also such a deadly and efficient hunter at the same time? And one that does not discriminate between the cute and ugly animals of this world in what she chooses to kill?
I understand that cats feel the need to eat. Don’t we all? I was fine with the shrews, they’re kind of repulsive, but Kittyboo (who is quite sufficiently fed by my personal self) seems to have made it her particular mission to kill the entire population of baby bunnies bouncing about in our backyard. And does she kill one of those ugly cowbirds or starlings that inflict themselves on our feeders and backyards? No. The bird Kittyboo caught and partially ate had to be a cardinal.
Kittyboo was a feral cat that my son found one evening, already seven years go. She was quite skinny, and my son thought she might be malnourished. He took her home and we all fell in love immediately. She’s been with us ever since, mostly staying indoors. And she was quite content to do this for many years, but lately she seems to be experiencing a midlife crisis. I don’t know. Maybe it’s the nice Spring and early Summer weather we been having that’s been urging her on. She expressed in her own way her displeasure with using her litterbox, preferring to use a convenient corner of the bathroom, or in front of the side door to the house (on the inside).
She’s also done great work on the door trim to our back door as you can see from the photo above. That’s her subtle way of letting us know she wants to go outside. I started letting her out just to make her happy, and hopefully curb her anti-litterbox behavior, and that’s when the killing began anew.
This past weekend, we bought her a new collar with a bell on it—just to give the poor bunnies a fighting chance. In spite of this, they seem to have been politely and voluntarily jumping into her mouth. Relieving them all from a certain strain involved with the whole ghastly affair. Two in a single day.
Yesterday on a morning walk I saw a single baby bunny in my neighbor’s yard, hanging about in the grass nearby the sidewalk. I was pleased that they had not all been killed, and I was determined that this one not be the next victim. Since then, Kittyboo has remained inside. She’s not been happy about it, that’s for sure, and has been shadowing me around the house a lot, trying to get me to understand (I must seem rather dull to her) that she wants out.
I can’t please everyone, I’ve been lately and authoritatively made aware of.
