As much as I love my cat children, they are terrible hunters. For instance, two months ago, Brody caught a mouse (hurray!) and then carried it upstairs where we were sleeping (what are you doing?!).
The rest of the story involves 20 minutes of us chasing the mouse through the house with a broom. Whenever we would spot the mouse, we would shout for Brody or Baby Girl to come get it. (In other words, the humans hunted the mouse.) Sure, the cats would run right over and search frantically…but to no avail.
In the end, the mouse crept away while all four of us searched for him under the couch.
Fast forward to this week.
I let Brody outside and, while lounging on the deck, he spotted a grasshopper on the side of the house. He carefully studied the insect’s movements and when the moment presented itself, he pounced!
Ho ho, way to go, old boy! Now, finish that tomato-killer off!
…what are you doing?
After carrying the grasshopper around in his mouth, he finally dropped it on the rug (which I happened to be in the middle of painting) where he and his prey engaged in a staring session.
Not wanting to let the grasshopper off so easy, Brody approached him again, ready to begin another round of torture.
That is until…
While Brody considered the bird, our pal Grasshopper took this moment to hop away.
In a last ditch effort, Brody lunged at the grasshopper who then flew right at me resulting in a lot of screaming and flailing on my part.
By the end of the tussle, this was all my cat had to show for:
What would you call this? A femur? A drumstick? (BTW, notice the toothmark on its side?)
Whatever it is, I’d say a punctured grasshopper thigh is the best that we can expect from our perhaps-talented-in-other-ways felines.