Finch’s cats are bengals, which makes them like little leopards. I miss them as much as I miss him, and torment them by picking them up like a 4 year old would and dumping them in places I prefer to have them (like on the bed with me while I’m working, asthma be damned).
Willow is a good sport, letting me shoot her on my first morning here this week when I granted her access to the bed…
and remaining unperturbed when I disturbed her in her hammock yesterday.
I did NOT capture Snuggs in his Serengeti mode. He was sleeping on the bed like a lump all day, and I noticed a squirrel on the bird feeder. I pointed Snuggs at the squirrel to chase it off. He ran off, then about five minutes later, I heard a soft shriek… as he strangled a full grown young hare to death about two feet from the big sliding doors in the bedroom. I screamed more loudly than the hare, but didn’t have the wherewithal to chase him off. Finch came running wondering why the hell I had screamed like that, and we determined that the hare was, indeed dead.
This was a full grown hare, not a wee baby bunny. It weighed easily as much as Snuggs.
He tried to drag the carcass into the house, a gift for us, but when we were undelighted, he dragged it off into the bushes and devoured it. Stuffed, he refused dinner, and laid on the couch burping. Part leopard, part frat boy.