playing with your food

I can’t claim complete innocence, I ignored the ominously thumpy noises and the cat-scrabbling-across-the-floor scratchings from the living room as Isis downed her second rat in my bedroom. I should have known.

But now it’s happened. Oh, woe is me.

So, now the last 1/3 of Isis’s dinner is on the loose somewhere in the living room, with the Fuzz, incompetent-yet-aspiring Mighty Hunter that he is, skidding around trying to catch it and mostly demonstrating that he wouldn’t survive a minute in a world without canned cat food. (He actually has been known to catch prey from time to time, but only the most challenging and difficult prey, like moths and beetles.)

The good news is that Sweetheart, despite her small stature, is indeed a Mighty Huntress (She-Who-Brings-Down-Squirrels), and the odds of the rat remaining loose for more than, say, overnight are pretty low, once Her Royal Highness works out that it’s there.

The bad news is that, unless I want half a rat on my bathroom floor in the morning, I have to find the damn thing NOW.

So, as you go about your nice, quiet, day-to-day lives, think of me as I go crawling around the living room with a flashlight, chasing a rat, assisted by an enthusiastic and thoroughly incompetent cat.

Oh, woe is me.

Tien