The members of my human family have adopted a more self-sufficient lifestyle since transitioning from city life to their forest home. This got me to thinking. Perhaps I could be more self-sufficient too.
I considered this – if my feral friends can sustain themselves on squirrels and birds, I could at least try my paw at a little bit of hunting. I’ve had enough of the wicked treatment that my fellow animals go through at slaughter houses in order for me to enjoy a meal of turkey and giblets pate.
I mentally prepared myself for the hunt. I knew that I would be safe in my orange coat (I was born to be a hunter!), plus I wore a jingling collar so that no hunters, human or otherwise, would be surprised by my appearance.
I needed not a gun nor a tomahawk; instead I ran my claws across a log or two and buffed the sharp edges on a rug-turned-scratching post.
At last razor sharp, my claws were ready.
I tried climbing up the Tamarack trees in an attempt to capture the woodpeckers who gathered high in them, but to no avail. I spotted little black squirrels scampering across the forest floor, but knew that I could never match their speed. Before I knew it, I was back in the garage again.
Feeling lightly defeated, I gobbled up a delicious bowl of ground up “turkey and giblets”.
However, something happened that night.
Something that made my adopted “mommy” scream when she saw it.
Hehehehe. I made my kill like a true wildcat in the darkness of the garage.
However, I didn’t eat the lil’ guy.
You know those rodents carry disease.