Guess my kitty-cat decided to go for the fast food today. Upon entering the basement, I happened to see a bird. A Mourning Dove, to be precise. My cat had brought it in through the pet door.
There were feathers all over the basement floor. I picked up the bird and noticed that my sweet little kittyhad eaten most of its back :eek:. It was nasty.
So I took it outdise and set it on the ground, expecting it to die right then and there. I was also prepared to humanely end his misery, because sometimes these things have to be done. Nope, he actually got up and flew off! Well, he flew over the fence then went down.
I don’t know why we let the little sadists into our lives and on to our laps… your story reminds me of the time that one of our cats chewed a back leg off a tree frog, and it managed to hop away before anything could be done for it. Poor frog, now 1/4th deaf:( [sub]
Our cat has a tendency to, not just kill the animals, but rip them to pieces. Since she never really grasped the concept of a quick kill, she instead will slowly torture the animal by ripping it to shreds.
Nothing nicer, than finding little bits of fur, with small chunks of flesh attached to them, sitting on the basement floor.
Then trying to figure out what the hell it was that she killed.
We have to identify animal remains by guessing what it might be, based on the color of the fur, and the rough volume the formerly living matter might take up.
The only things any of my cats have ever killed are Junebugs, which are apparently the kittycat equivalent of Cheet-os. (Crunch crunch crunch.)
They’re all wildly entertained by clickbugs, but I’ve never seen them kill one. They will spend hours flipping on onto its back, watching it “click” itself upright, then catching it and flipping it back onto its obverse. Weird cats.
I once released twenty crickets into the basement with the idea that they would provide cool ambient cricket noises, and what with crickets being lucky and all. My cats ate every last one. The slaughter rivaled the fall of Troy.
Our cat, Tucker, is the Torquemada of lizards. Living in Florida, there are an incredible variety of lizards living around our house, and he catches three or four a DAY. Brings them in the house before dismantling.
So we find pieces all over the place. Occasionally, some bits are self mobile. Otherwise, there are bits.
And you find dehydrated ones. Must be a kitty freeze drying processor somewhere in the house.
My parents own several cats who frequently haul their prey into the house–over the years they’ve encountered rats, bats, birds and snakes, all alive and trying to find a way out.
One day my Mom left a window open so the cats could go in and out of the house while she was at work. She came home for lunch to find a live blue jay in my bedroom. She threw a coat over it and put it back outside, then returned to work. When she came home in the evening she found a chipmunk in the room; it moved too fast for her to catch it so she had to call my brother and his friends to come get it. After that she closed the window.
When the bat got in my Dad was going to smash it with a broom, but fortunately my mother stopped him (he probably would have just broken all the furniture while trying to nail the bat.) The bat flew into the bathroom and landed on a towel; Mom put a large salad dish over it and made my Dad open the bathroom window so she could throw the bowl, the bat, and the towel out into the yard.
