How to Hunt - 2

From Bandit's Diary

SERIOUS WARNING:

Some images may cause readers distress.

As I was saying, I was after this mouse which had taken cover under the geranium rack, and having a terrible time getting at him, when I finally felt him with the tip of my paw. Now, as my humans well know from when I sit on their laps, if I suddenly extend my claws the effect is.... painful.

Which it was for the mouse. I got two claws into him and hauled him out, squeaking as he came - which was extremely gratifying, as the humans were saying things like, "Oh my God, she's got it! Oh no!" He was a nice fat mouse as he - and quite a few of his relatives - have been feeding all winter on the leftovers from the ridiculous bird feeding my master indulges in.

Now the best bit of fun is to locate myself so I can get the maximum enjoyment out of the next stage - which is to carry him over to the bench where they're sitting, not eating their lunch any more.

It's a good idea to let him emit a couple of feeble squeals and run around a bit before finally finishing him off. These antics usually cause some comments like, "Bloody cat! Why can't it put the wretched thing out of its misery?" At which point I look up, hurt.

I have to say that this is quality mouse. Those of you who know a little about them will recognise straight away that he's young and has some nice fat on him. Anyway, I didn't eat him straight away as the humans had stopped eating their lunch and were watching me, and there were some things I had to do first....

....like give him a couple of prods to see if he was alive enough to provide some extra fun - you know, haul himself around a bit by his front legs, leaving a trail of slimy wet stuff. That usually winds the humans up a treat.

Unfortunately, this one was well and truly dead. So I waited long enough for the humans to go back to eating their lunch again before I started on him, chewing him slowly, making as many crunching and sucking sounds as possible. The head's the best bit for crunch, at which point my mistress usually says, "Get that cat out of here! How can I eat my lunch when...."

Which is real cheek if you ask me. They're eating their lunch, so why shouldn't I eat mine?

*

There's a picture missing here as The Diary refused to put the last one on. It shows the stage of the hunt which I most enjoy: the small pile of pink and green entrails which I leave exactly where one of them is going to tread in it.