A little while ago I looked out the back door and saw that my crazy calico was feasting on a freshly killed squirrel. On the doormat right outside the back door.
Now maybe I’m the crazy one, demanding that a cat follow my rules, but I’m rather stubborn about such things. Messy feline feasting within inches of the entrance to my house is strictly forbidden. So I grabbed the edges of the doormat and flipped Kes’s lunch out into the yard. Then I grabbed her and stroked her and told her what a good kitty she is (Yes, I lie) and set her down beside her kill. But she is apparently incapable of eating fresh meat anywhere farther than six inches away from the back door. Actually, she would prefer to eat it inside the house but since she does not have hands and therefore cannot open the door herself she must be as close to the entrance to the house as possible.
So now there is a headless squirrel in my back yard which its killer refuses to touch anymore. I suppose such things should be obvious but, being a mere human, I don’t get it and stubbornly insist on having my own way.
UPDATE: It’s about four hours later and she has decided that the squirrel is too good to waste no matter where she is forced to have her meal.