Cats

Some harsh lessons in life were dealt yesterday. My two young boys watched on in disbelief as next doors cat got on with the task of eating it’s catch.

They’ve seen this before and shook their heads in disgust at the idea. They’ve even seen and learnt that cats like to play with their kill as well as eat them. That was funny to watch though as ‘Harry’ tossed the bird into the air and caught it over and over again having a great time. Each time the bird thought it was getting away only to be re taken. The boys were dumbfounded to learn the reality of what cats get up to.

This time though a new twist was added. The bird was part of a pair. The bird had a friend which clearly did not want to loose its mate. For ages the second bird loitered about occasionally trying to swoop at Harry in order to frighten him away. Harry didn’t frighten off though – he continued to play, having the time of his life. This was a real adventure, this was hunting at its most raw. As far as Harry was concerned he was out on the Serengeti hunting down gazelle and buffalo. The cat was now a Lion and thoroughly enjoyed the experience.

For ages he taunted the second bird, flipping the first one towards it and then catching it again. Putting the bird down and moving a little as if he was going but then going back and getting it again; occasionally swiping a spare paw towards the free bird. In his head he was a savage hunter and could go on all day.

My boys meanwhile were distraught. The sight of the second bird brought home a little truth about the consequences of death to young minds. They declared that they would “tell” the cat’s owner. Clearly 5 minutes on the naughty step should sort the cat out. You can’t stop a cat being a cat though; millions of years of evolution can’t take the hunter out of it anymore than it can stop me having a hairy back.

My boys have got over it already of course, it’s now just another step on their roads towards being full blown cynics like their Father, bless them.