A Cat Torturing its Pray

Proof that he did nap from time to time. This picture was taken June 29, 2014. Shortly after his Splenectomy. The scar that you see on his side is not from the Splenectomy but from the lump we had removed on June 3, 2014.

I sat outside today in an attempt to feel better in the warm sun. Honestly, I don't like it as I am not use to being able to sit on my back porch without Tripp growling at me. This is my new normal now and my new world and I'm going to have to get use to the quiet.

As I sat on the porch, I saw one of my cat's, Tessie, walking up with a mouse in her mouth. I knew she wouldn't get near me with that thing. There have been too many incidences where she brought me a half-dead vermin and dropped it at my feet which resulted in a lot of screaming. Tessie realized many years ago to leave the vermin at a good distance.

I watched Tessie walk up near the porch and drop the mouse, which was still alive but partially injured. She then laid down beside her prize. The mouse slowly started to move as far away from Tessie as it could. It moved very slowly so that Tessie didn't notice her--or so I'm sure it hoped. Tessie just aid on the ground, staring at it for a bit and then her attention went to something else on the other side of the yard. She wasn't even acting like she knew the mouse was there, slowly moving away from her. However, she knew exactly where the mouse was. This is part of the game cats play on their victims.

As the mouse slowly moved farther and farther away from her, it found a tall patch of grass and sat for a few minutes staring at Tessie and trying to decide it's next move and if it was safe. Then suddenly, as quick as it could, it bolted. The mouse ran as fast as it could. In that moment, all of Tessie's attention went back to the mouse. This was the moment she had been waiting for. A chance to chase and torture her victim one more time. She got up, ran, and then pounced back on the mouse and scooped it into her mouth.

She brought the mouse back to the spot she had previously been laying and, once again, laid down and pretended not to notice. The same actions happened a second time with the mouse moving slowly away and then, after it felt it might be safe, it bolted for dear life only to find itself back in Tessie's mouth. This time it was over. Tessie used a little too much force and killed or injured the mouse enough that he no longer moved. Tessie's tail swished back and forth slowly, victoriously.

It was a happy moment for Tessie indeed but not a happy one for the mouse. Why did the mouse even bother fighting? He was already injured and any nature person knows once a wild animal is injured, especially by a cat, it's chances of survival are dismal. I guess he still fought because there was no other choice. Maybe the mouse knew it was a game she was playing but he still had hope that maybe it wasn't. Why give up when there is a minuscule chance you could survive, even if only for a little longer? Give it all you got until there is nothing left.

I can't help but compare this to Tripp's cancer. The cancer finally caught him but it seemingly let him go after the splenectomy. We thought we might be safe, that a miracle might have happened. We slowly tried to move far, far away from the predator. Then we fought hard. We gave it all we had. We bolted from the predator. However, in the end it was like Tessie who was just "pretending" not to pay attention to her prey. She wanted to see what the mouse could do. What it had left to offer. And then just when we honestly thought we might have got lucky, might have got away, time to bolt home so we could heal our wounds and tell the terrible story of how he almost died--the cancer laughed and pounced and attacked once more. We never had it under control. It was only toying with us. In the end, it got exactly what it wanted which was eating and killing my best friend.