|An intruder has been cornered|
I believe she was came to live with us five years ago this June. She was a young shelter cat, a new mother—barely a year old. Sadly, the nice shelter folk didn’t introduce us to her wee progeny. I suspect this had much to do with The Amazing Bob’s panicked, behind my back, semaphorian communication. “Do NOT show this woman the babies, she won’t be able to say no and we don’t have room or energy for four kittens!”
*sigh* I bet they were gorgeous just like their mother.
|Get the camera outta my grill Woman!|
|She waits for her victim to emerge|
Over the years she’s proved to be quite the ruthless, mercy free, mouse assassin. Shockingly though, we’ve not had any mousey interlopers this winter. Possibly, the word’s out that there are now two killers in tha houz.
Except....except...at 14 or 15, nearly 80 in people years, Rocco’s deservedly retired. He emerges from his new digs, his private condo for food, pats, occasional household explorations and to, ya know, check up on me. Still, a bit of his fierce warrior roots remain. I think he heard our girl on the hunt and wanted to join in the fun or at least watch.
Coco plays the long game though—it'll be days before she puts the poor bastard rodent out of its quivering, mousey misery.
Rocco took his grumpy old self back to bed. Bring me some treats, Woman—I'm gonna go upstairs and read the paper. Let me know when the kid finally offs Stuart. K?