Gifts your pets left you

The other day, I woke up to find the lower half of a rabbit on my couch. One of my dogs probably climbed over my fence, nailed the varmint, tore it apart, then climbed back over the fence and took the legs back inside through the dog flap. My other dog brought in squirrel tails when she was younger, but nothing this graphic.

What about you?

I’ve always had indoor kitties, so there’s little opportunity for varmint-related presents (thank goodness). One cat, however, liked to hunt folded-up pairs of socks and stash them behind doors. He would carry them around like he was moving kittens from room to room. Weird.

I had an outdoor cat that used to leave me bird parts. This upset me until I realized she was leaving me a gift. From then on I praised her for the “present.”
Antigen, that’s cute! Yes, cats is weird!

When I was a kid, our golden retriever once brought us a mouthful of baby mice - live, and not injured in the least.

What a gentle dog. I miss her.

My kitties stay indoors, but one doctor I work for had this happen the other morning: Their cat woke up him and his wife with a present on the covers of the bed. His wife reached down to pet the gift, thinking it was the cat. It was a snake she had brought in! He said, “After my wife flew around the room”, indicating the ceiling, he took the garden snake out and released it. Poor Ms. Dr! I’d have PTSD from that for sure!

I used to have a fat, sweet 'ol tom named “Jolly Mon” who would periodically bring me rats, mice, birds, lizards, garden snakes and once an entire dead raccoon (I assume he found it post mortem; he was a big 'ol boy, but not big enough to fight a coon and win).

I read in Desmond Morris’ Catwatching that this is pretty typical feline behavior. Mr. Morris’ theorizes that since we force cats into a social setting that they wouldn’t have in the wild, they assume the role of mother/brother/provider for us dumb, ugly kittens who are too inept to hunt and bring us food.

His alternate theory was that housecats are forced into a life of perpetual kittenhood where we take on the role of mother and they show us the results of their hunt to earn praise.

Either way, it’s kind of flattering and even sweet in a brutal, feline way.

Last year I took a very small class with a prof who was a self-proclaimed crazy cat lady and another woman who was heading that way. One day we wandered off topic from the execution of Charles I and got onto the topic of how cats can by neutered at home by tying a rubber band tightly around their testicles. (No idea if this was related, in the sense of “Hey, you know what else can be removed from a body besides the head?”) One of the women had done so with a cat she had rescued. It worked fine, but he then picked up his little testicles in his mouth and dropped them at her feet.

I don’t think that was meant as a present, though.

As a kid, we had a couple black labs who always got into trouble.

One came back with what appeared to be a large dead opossum in it’s mouth and dropped it at my feet. I brought the dog inside but when I came back with a shovel to dispose of the opposum, it was gone.:eek:
Not really a “gift” but one time my girlfriend left a box of pizza on the table. Thnking that it was safe with the two dogs lazily lounging about like furniture, she left the room for a few minutes. Some time later, she came back and started yelling at me that the pizza was gone! The dogs had calmly gotten up, opened the box with their nose, ate the entire pizza, closed the box and went back to their positions as if nothing had happened.
I was pretty surprised when they ate my homework. I didn’t know they actually did that.

Way back when I stayed in accommodation on a teaching farm and this was how they castrated bullocks.

Man, I’m jealous!

The only gifts I get from Buddy Cat are what he leaves me in the litterbox. Not very exciting.

On the other hand, I can count on at least two every day.

Well, it was usually the family dogs, not the cats, who killed the rats in the family home, for some odd reason.

And one morning I remember, I came downstairs to find…not a dead rat, but the rat skin. Nothing else, no blood, just the skin. A neat little pelt, like a tiny bearskin rug, just lying by the stove.

Never found the rest of it.

  1. When my dad retired and moved onto two acres with a small orchard, he discovered a mole problem. He eventually taught his cat to deal with it. Patrick got wet cat food if he brought a mole or mouse to the door. Not if he brought a bird or a lizard. It took him awhile, but he actually beat the moles back to nearly nothing.

  2. I knew a woman who did the rubber band thing with her cat. She found him batting them around like a fuzzy play toy. He never shared them with her. I assume she took them away and threw them out.

  3. Speaking of Charles I, one of my geneologically inclined second cousins says we are decended from the older brother of Colonel Daniel Axtell, Captain of the Parliamentary Guard at the trial of King Charles I, who was later hanged, drawn and quartered as a Regicide. For a while I assumed that the emigrating brother got the better of the deal. But it turns out he died younger, of a disease that he caught in America. (Not anthing to do with the gifts of cats, I admit.)

Back in the late 60’s, when such things were the fashion, my Great Dane mix (who was actually a stray that adopted my family and came and went as he pleased) brought me home a fringed suede vest. No idea where it came from. And the thing FIT me. I was delighted with it and wore it for several years.

Not mine, but my roommates cat used to leave me breakfast every morning. Each morning, without fail, I would open my bedroom door and find a mouse waiting there. I didnt mind the dead ones, it was the half-dead ones that got to me. . . gave new meaning to that old saw about eating a live frog.

He was a good cat, and must have thought I needed nourishment. . .

Haven’t you heard of “playing 'possum”? :slight_smile:

Minny (cat) seems to think it the height of generosity to leave me a hairball in the middle of the dining room table a couple of times a week.

Similarly, Zeke (cat) gifts me a poop behind the bookshelves whenever he is an a particularly giving spirit.

Charlie (cat) is content to let the other two bless me with their intimate offferings–he prefers to sneak into my jewelry drawer and present me with the opportunity to play fetch with my tourmaline necklace. At least I don’t gag when I pick up after him.

My kitty is indoor only, so he has to be creative.

One morning, I woke up, slid my feet into my slippers, and OUCH! There was a large chunk of cactus stuffed inside the toe of one of the slippers. My cat had destroyed my small potted cactus and hidden the remains in my slipper.

A couple of times my old cat brought live chipmunks and rabbits into the house.

Our current Killer of All Things Small and Cute is very fastidious. When she kills a bird, she will often eat most of it, and leave us with a pile of feathers, and beak and two feet. Weird.

In my last NYC apartment there was a family of tiny mice living in one of the walls. Occasionally one would escape, and become a toy for one of my cats. He would leave them in my shoes, often not entirely dead. I learned very quickly to shake out my shoes before putting them on.

My cat Oreo occasionally leaves presents for whoever feeds her. Since my sister moved out, my mom feeds her. On Monday, Mom heard Oreo meowing loudly from the hall bathroom, and went there thinking something was wrong. It turned out she was only calling Mom to present her with her latest gift, a large dead rat.