This is a story of a cat that I live with and his first bird.
For those of you out there who didn’t read my other story about Roger here are the main characters.
Me-AKA:The Food God.
Frank-My cat, a smart cat who knows way too much (he has now figured out how to open the refridgerator) he is a black and white cat very nice.
Roger-AKA:The Monkey Dog. My roommates cat. Not a very smart cat, lets not pull any punches he is pretty darn stupid. He is known as the Monkey Dog due to the fact that he has a stocky build, his fur is of the russian blue version, and he has no tail. When he walks around he kinda looks like a monkey and a dog so therefore Monkey Dog.
And introducing Iggy-AKA:Franks stunt double. She was given to us by a friend, Iggy is a small cat. She is not a kitten she is just always small. If I ever film an action movie staring Frank as the hero, and I’m doing a scene where Frank has to run into a convent to save a bunch of burning baby nuns, you would see Frank run up to the door, then the scene would cut to Iggy amid the flames dragging the baby nuns thru the flames. Iggy is also a crazy cat.
Ok now on to the story.
I woke up one day and walked down the stairs, the cats were down at the bottom of the stairs doing their I’m so hungry dance. After I feed them I walk into the living room and find a bird’s wing on the floor and some feathers scattered around. It should be noted that last summer we would leave the screen window to the back yard open so the cats could go in and out. The cats all pointed their paws at each other in blame. I drop the matter and go to work.
I wake up the next morning hearing some strange growling downstairs. I hurry downstaris Iggy and Roger are at the bottom of the stairs with very scared looks in their eyes. I find Frank has caught a bird and was about to feast on the bird but then I showed up. I complement Frank on his bird pick it up (with a paper towel I’m not that gross) and toss it outside with Frank.
You can guess what happened the next morning…Yep more growling. I go downstairs this time it looks like Iggy is the perp. She gets the same treatment which is breakfast outdoors. This goes on for a few days with Frank and Iggy switching off days. Roger looks more and more worried, he isn’t being allowed into their little club. I think it took a couple of days for the solution to form in his little brain.
Saturday morning I’m woken up by growling again…but it is different from the last few days. Could it be? Has he done it? I run downstairs like a kid on Christmas morning. Yep Iggy and Frank are at the bottom of the stairs with the look on their faces. I go into the living room with the cats in tow, Roger is hunkerd over his kill his back is facing me…I go closer, Roger looks up at me with a triumphant look, the same look I’m sure the guy had when he killed Bambi’s mom. I look at the kill, Roger has killed a worm.
The other cats are laughing in the way that only cats can. I pat roger on the head and tell him what a wonderful rare bird he has caught. I pick up the worm (I used a papertowel I think worms are really yucky) toss the worm outside and I grab Roger who looks so happy and proud and toss him out also.
So Roger has joined Frank and Iggy’s club, but when they look at him it’s kinda like the way workers at McDonalds look at the new guy who has to wear the paper hat that says “trainee” on it. But Roger is in.