Tokio just came over to the area next to my chair and started playing with something. This something turned out to be a baby mouse. She catches mouses from time to time, and usually leaves their corpses just inside the door once she’s done playing wis them. And I shuffle them into little baggies and throw them away, and tell her what a good and clever cat she is. This baby mouse, however, was still alive.
Tokio was very pleased wis it, and evidently wanted me to be pleased wis it too. No matter where I took it (and suggested she play wis it there instead), she kept bringing it back to the spot next to my chair. I might have been able to ignore it, but every time she let off attacking it, it would stand up and start trying to walk away — and whenever she smacked it into something or clawed it particularly hard, it would squeak. I didn’t want to take it right away from her, though, because 1) I don’t want to discourage her catching mice, because it’s a very good thing for her to do; and 2) because I figured she would probably kill the poor thing faster than it would die on its own in the trash in the garage. I would have killed it myself if I could have brought my WHAT THE CRAP SHE JUST CAME IN WIS ANOTHER ONE. In the middle of my freaking narrative about the first one! Where is she getting these???
Seriously! When she’d accidentally lost the first one under something and couldn’t get it back, I took it out… and now, not two minutes later, she comes trotting in wis a new one and starts playing wis it in the spot next to my chair. It’s down there squeaking pathetically as I type. What about the fonger, man? Dad thinks she caught the mother last night or the night before and now the babies don’t know what to do wis themselves.
This is all very tragic and disturbing on me. My sweet Tokio is such a good smart cat and I love her telve million, but I don’t want to watch that type of thing.