Pretty much the evidence speaks to fluffy carpet rather than killer beast. She lays about most of the day, sometimes on her back. Her belly is very fluffy. She loves to kill her toys, they die often, but I don’t get any of the satisfying blood from them. Moxie is an indoor cat.
My other cats, Poonie, Otis and Sir were all outdoor cats until Sir got hit by a car and died. Then Poonie and Otis had to stay inside. Poor kittens, they never got over that. Before they were confined to the house, my cats were wonderful killers, each with a speciality.
Sir killed birds, Mom hated that. He would lurk beneath the bird feeder just waiting for a bird to offer itself to him, then BAM! he’d jump and snag it. Once a cardinal managed to save itself but flew away wobbledy without any tailfeathers. Sir turned to look at me with a grin of red feathers hanging out of his mouth.
Otis was an expert mole killer. She could wait outside the hole of a mole for what seemed like hours, just waiting, ears pricked forward, listening. She’d catch them, then somehow the other two cats knew that she’d caught a new toy. They would sit on the patio passing the poor dying mole between them, some times tossing it in the air, some times sadistically letting it go only to delight in catching it again. Then they would kill it and eat the entrails. I’d have to go clean it up. Once Otis caught a 17 year Cicada during it’s season. Those are big bugs. She managed to get it nearly all in her mouth and tried to get in the house. I wouldn’t let her in, then the thing started to buzz. She freaked out, that thing was vibrating like crazy, her eyes were darting back and forth, but she would not let that thing go. She tried even harder to get into the house, finally she did spit it out. Watching her try and figure out how to clean her own tongue was rather funny.
Poonie was the all around killer. She’d come back with just about everything. Her favorite trick was to hide her prize from Mom until allowed in the house and then VOILA! she would produce whatever bleeding half alive creature she had. Once, when I was napping Mom let her in with a snake. Poonie jumped up on my chest and woke me up with her little “Pprrrrup!” and a pat on the face. I didn’t really wake up until I heard the muffled nature of the purr and then felt the thing drop onto my chest and begin to slither away from her. She promptly caught it again, at my expense, I jumped up, she jumped down and then sat there with this snake hanging out of her mouth with these sad yellow eyes that seemed to say “I can’t believe you don’t like this lovely snack I brought you! You have no idea how to live.”
All three of those great cats are now gone. I’ve got Moxie, the gray fluffy carpet of a cat. I’ll have to think about taking her outside. Maybe she will hang out in the garden with me. I think she will be more fun outside.