It’s a new venture, apparently. At least I think it is. Certainly in the three months Charlie has lived here I never saw a mouse in the house. Not too many outside either, although I did raise a couple of mouse babies a couple of years ago but not seen any since. I have blogged before about the tiny mice who came to collect ‘deliberate’ droppings of birdseed whenever I went out to feed the birds. Maybe the upheaval caused by new neighbours has deprived the mice of protection in the garden and made it easier for Charlie to catch them.
I have to praise Charlie for his actions, though. He doesn’t just kill mice; he carries them carefully through the cat flap into the side passage. From there he carries them up two steps and round the kitchen door which is currently left ajar (I am waiting for another cat flap to be fitted). Then he saunters along the hall to the lounge where he places them amongst his toys. I hasten to add that he does this one at a time. I’m not sure he could carry more than that in one go. Ah, I imagine him saying, another trophy – and I wonder if he knows it’s me that removes them. I’m quite furtive when I use the litter scoop to toss the dead creature into bag before chucking it into the refuse bin ... I would hate to upset him.
I wonder if it’s okay to put it there? It’s not something I can ask the neighbours on the grounds they might not like mice in any shape or form being binned and transported to the refuse depot. I suppose even if I could dig a hole Charlie would just un-bury the poor thing. How does one dispose of a dead mouse? And how does one stop a cat from triumphantly bringing home his prey?
His latest capture was a baby bird which did upset me. I can see I need to harden my heart as far as nature is concerned, after all Charlie is only doing what all cats do. If only he would stop offering them to me! I read somewhere that cats like to show off their so-called prizes. Well, I have praised him, repeatedly telling him he’s a clever boy, so does that mean I’m due for a few more dead gifts? Still, dead is better than alive when we’re talking about rodent house guests. Ugh!