11222017Headline:

Kitty Ninja

BIG kitty ninja 150x150 Kitty Ninja

He is watching and waiting… Image by BarbaraWilli at FlickrCommons

By L. Marrick

I used to live in the mountains with a cat who was a great mouser, Pawo. Our mountain cabin was full of mice, which would come out at night and try to seize the run of the place.

He may have been the runt of the litter, but Pawo was a great hunter. A real master of stealth. Sometimes we’d let him out on the mountainside to play. Most of the time he’d come right home when we called him in, but sometimes he’d decide to just ignore us and stay out to play.

He knew we couldn’t find him. And he knew we couldn’t catch him even if we did find him.

So we put a collar with a very jangly bell around his neck.

Pawo hated that collar.

For awhile, it was much easier to find him when he refused to come in.

Then Pawo upped his game. If he was a master of stealth before, he now became a kitty ninja. He learned to move and hunt in such sinuous movements that the bell didn’t make a sound unless he wanted it to.

Not. One. Sound.

Wearing that collar with the very sensitive bell, Pawo managed to catch chipmunks, birds, squirrels and other small mountainside creatures.

One day, I was standing at the kitchen counter washing dishes. The door to the mountainside was open, so the kitties could come and go. I heard Pawo’s bell as he came in to say hi, and looked down at my feet.

There was Pawo with a full-grown rabbit in his mouth. The rabbit was easily as big as him. It was also not moving, but I couldn’t tell if it was alive or not. Rabbits, you know. They do that “frozen with fear” thing pretty well.

I gave a little yelp and took the mixing bowl I was washing, and turned it upside down over the rabbit, which turned out to be alive. No sooner had I lowered the bowl than the bunny began leaping about underneath it.

I scooted the bowl toward the door slowly, so as not to tumble the rabbit around underneath the bowl. All the way there, Pawo sniffed at the bowl’s rim. I held his bell collar while I released the bunny back to the mountainside.

The look of betrayal Pawo gave me was heartbreaking. And a little frightening.

That night, I was actually glad we had mice for Pawo to catch. I didn’t need a vengeful kitty ninja stalking me in my sleep.

 

Featured image by Patrick McConahay at Flickr Commons

What Next?

Recent Articles