A Story

The Life of a Pet Cat who likes to Hunt

by Chloe F.

     I’ve got my target within my sights. That stupid mouse doesn’t even know I’m here. My paws are slowly creeping across the leaves of the forest, barely making a whisper of noise. My black fur helps me blend in with the night. I leap through the air, the wind hissing by my ears. I land on my plump prey’s thin tail, but before I can snap its neck it snakes its tail through my claws and takes off to hide under a bush, or in its burrow. I bound off after it, scaring off any other nearby prey. I can hear them running, even with the wind roaring in my ears. This is my only chance, otherwise I’ll have to come back later. It runs behind a tree with peeling gray bark, probably hoping that I would run straight past it. I turn the corner, but the slippery little thing is nowhere in my sights. I sniff the air for its lingering scent. It is then that I realize that there is a burrow at the base of the tree next to me. The mouse had slipped inside before I could get there. I decide to climb the tree–-to wait until it decides to brave the night again.

      It must have been at midnight when the little rodent pokes his nose outside of its hole. The hunter inside me tells me to jump and snag its little nose with a claw, but I know better. If I jump, it will hear the wind rushing past me as I fall, besides, I do not have a satisfactory angle; I will have to wait until it is completely out of the burrow. The thing inches out of its burrow for far too long–-it must have been another fifteen minutes–-before I jump. One claw pins down the animal, and I stumble with the force of my impact. The mouse almost escapes, but my claw had snagged its foot, hindering its escape. I snap its neck, ending its misery, and pick it up in my jaws and walk back home to nose my way through the plastic flaps of the doggy door. A successful hunt. I drop my prize in the shoe of one of the humans that live here with me–-where I know it will be found. I hiss with triumph, and know she will be proud.

      The next morning she finds my gift, but I’m not sure what’s wrong with her. She picks me up and shoves the mouse in my face. Then she drops me outside on the porch, and discards my prey in the yard! I see a look of irritation on her face, and yowl in protest. What did I do wrong? Should I have tried to leave the foot intact? Should I have left it alive so that they can make the kill themselves? That must be it. I bound off into the woods to hunt again. This time I will do better. I sit still–-laying low in the multi-colored leaves–-keeping my eyes wide and ears open. A short distance away, a bush rustles and a small bird darts out. Perfect. It will be more of a challenge. Slowly, I and climb up a tree of smooth, white bark and climb out along its branches until I am directly above the unsuspecting creature. I let myself drop, and as I land I trap its wing in my jaws and trot out of the woods and into the house.

      Once inside I drop my prize at the feet of another human. It flies off. Soon other humans join the first trying to catch my prize. I sit back and watch, purring with contentment that I have done something right. Then they catch it; however, they don’t kill it, they release it! Now what did I do?! The largest human picks me up by my scruff–-I stop purring–-and yells in my face, though I don’t know what in the world he’s trying to tell me. Then nothing is holding me. I stumble upon landing on the floor. I slink away, thinking over the days events. I’m doing something wrong, but what? I’ll just keep hunting until I get it right.