A Few Less than Syrupy Thoughts about Cats from a Cat Lover

Why, oh why do cats have to barf underneath the bed, almost smack dab at the center point, without my knowledge until a day or so later when my nose has to follow the odor to its offensive source?  It's like needing to find the remains of their last hunted critter after the same time period.  Trust me, ain't nothin' like the smell of decomposition - ew.  In those moments, I'd be much happier if they left them outside where they caught them instead of bringing them indoors to half-enjoy or abandon.

I'm not even appreciative of when they bring in dead game and leave it at my desk or next to the bed.  That's supposedly the highest compliment your cat can bestow upon you, hunting down dinner and leaving it for you.  Aw, that's so sweet, but Mommy isn't fond of mouse, mole, chipmunk, snake, or any type of small bird except maybe Cornish game hen.

Then, there are the moments of live game "fun".  I'm never sure whether it's just that they want to extend the thrill of the hunt for a while longer or if they're too well fed and just have no talent for it.  Either way, all the above named kitty trophies have occasionally arrived alive inside my home.  Through the years, I've tried rescues, snatching them from the cats and releasing them outdoors, trying to care for them, and even once taking one to a wildlife rehabilitator.  These efforts are rarely successful.  They may not be the greatest hunters, able to kill their prey quickly and cleanly, but sadly, they can do a lot of damage to a little bird, reptile or mammal.  Dead or alive, though, the wildlife goes back outside once I take over.

I look forward to spring and summer.  The cats go out and explore again, but more importantly, they're out of my face.  When it's cold out, I rarely hear the cat door swing or get a meowing request at the door to go out and play in the snow.  We're all cooped up together and getting on each other's last nerves.  I relish it when my bed becomes mine, all mine again.  They don't stay out all the time, but for some reason, they discover that there are other places in my home to curl up in.  Until about October, that is, when the falling leaves cause the return of cat life to the great indoors.  Guess where?

Until then, however, the feline hunting parties will continue.  Whether they bring in game for me or for themselves, I will be ultimately responsible for critter rescue and release or disposal.  Oh, I could keep the cats inside all the time and I'd never have to deal with dead or half-dead mice, etc. again.  But, I suspect having the kitty-kids indoors 365 days a year might be too stressful for a group that's been accustomed to an indoor-outdoor existence their entire lives.  It might also be detrimental to my mental health as well.  I'm really not a crazy cat lady and I'd like to keep it that way.

And regardless of whether they're indoors or out, I'd still have to deal with cat barf under the bed.