It’s a Cat-Eat-Bug World Out There

My cats have been keeping a vigil on the mail slot. Their watchfulness has proven fruitful as they successfully alerted me to the intrusion of a large cockroach (fortunately not a giant flying one) through that ingress earlier. They were less successful at hunting and killing the fast-moving monster, but their efforts at pouncing on it were valiant. It was quite the chase across the living room, moving furniture and swinging wildly with my weapon in one hand and my flashlight in the other, cats bounding and chirping with each failed attempt. Eventually, we collaborated to slay the beast with a mighty squash from a large piece of wood. I may have wielded the instrument of destruction but it was the cats who provided the keen eyesight for tracking the creature. I am now wearing insect poison like it is perfume and the cats are taking victory nap. The seemed a little disappointed that I did not leave the corpse for them to consume.  (It had been doused in my toxic perfume.)

This is not the first time that I have collaborated with cats to hunt home invaders. In fact, I have worked with feline compatriots on many an occasion, including in the safe and humane removal of bats (released unharmed, though angry, into the wild) and birds (there may have been some emotional trauma as birds are quite sensitive) as well as the total annihilation of extra-large horse flies. Cats seem to find the crunch of a good horse fly especially delicious. Protein is protein, as they say. Also, there’s some hippie dude in California making flour for protein bars out of crickets, so eating bugs is not just a cat thing anymore.

I’ve had the special privilege of working with cats on the capture and removal of a number of snakes. Snake hunting was a specialty of my last boy cat (may he rest in peace) who would corner the reptiles in the basement, forcing them to coil up, while meowing to me upstairs for assistance. If I responded to his request for backup I could, with gloves on of course, pick up the coiled creature and release it unharmed to the yard. If, however, I did not respond (either because I was asleep or not home) he would eventually take matters into his own paws and dispatch the poor creature with extreme prejudice. I would later awaken or come home to eviscerated gore on the kitchen floor.

In summation, cats are good at pest control. It’s what we pay them for. That and light dusting. Those little whiskers really pick up the cobwebs. Anyone else hungry? I’ve got some “raisins” around here somewhere.