Spring has arrived in Oslo, and with it a flood of fresh, juicy prey for Ada and Linus. After a wet and dreary winter, it’s lovely to see the cats enjoying the mild weather. Yesterday, Linus put all doubts about his hunting prowess to shame by catching a mouse and carrying it proudly into our living room. Problem was, the mouse was very much alive. I managed to get the frightened creature outside, where it was promptly rediscovered by Linus. Later, Ada joined the party, and for the next couple of hours they were chasing it around until the dinner signal lured them inside. This morning, the mouse was gone.
While I do see the problem with cats preying on a bird population under pressure, I have no qualms whatsoever about them going after mice or rats in an urban, rodent-infested environment. As long as they kill their prey, that is. And at the moment, Ada and Linus seem to have a hard time getting the job done. Of course they play with their food, in the sadistic manner you just have to ignore to be a cat lover. But to me, it’s pretty obvious that they don’t know how to kill a mouse.
I could blame their delinquent mother, who abandoned them in a barn long before they were able to cope on their own, let alone aquire basic hunting skills. But that really doesn’t help them. What they need is quite literally a kind of boot kamp for kitties. Or some friendly advice. Why isn’t there a real Cat Whisperer around when you need one? :-)