I woke up earlier than planned this morning, pre-dawn.
Sleep hadn’t come easily to me the previous night, probably four hour’s worth of sporadic forty winks worth at a time.
Before going to bed I had watched a bit of catch-up TV. Episode 1, Season 5 of Shetland. Jimmy and Tosh make a couple of gruesome discoveries on the beach. Discoveries that are likely to manifest themselves in my restless sleep.
Taking myself to bed, I drift off, as I do, watching an episode of 24 Hours in A & E and wake up during an episode of Naked Attraction.
Finally, the desired result: 6 hours of glorious uninterrupted sleep, marred only by waking up at 06.20, feeling queasy. Morning sickness at my time of life? Steroids. They may bring on bouts of biliousness but they keep the autoimmune symptoms at bay.
Blurry eyed and nauseous, I make my way down to the Kitchen and walk through the door. Bending down to momentarily coo over my Bengal and my Burmese babies, Misha and Ollie, who are curled up lovingly in their basket together. I murmur sweet nothings to them. Mummy’s so lucky to have such beautiful babies. I love you both, so much. An appreciative purring duet follows, without opening their eyes and I lift my head to discover that the kitchen floor is a crime scene.
THE DIARY OF A KILLER CAT – The hilarious confessions of a ferocious feline by Anne Fine
Poor Ellie is horrified when her cat, Tuffy, drags a dead bird into the house. Then a mouse. Before long, another apparent victim arrives though the cat-door. Can softhearted Ellie get her beloved pet to change his wild, wild ways before he ends up in even deeper trouble? Especially when Tuffy can’t understand what all the fuss is about?
A severely dismembered rodent lies intestines down in a pool of dried blood. I deduced the murder must have been carried out shortly after midnight, the time when my rapid eye movement would have been at is most intense.
A search of the neighbourhood won’t be necessary. I know who the perpetrators are. I have just told them how much I love them and I do, unconditionally but…
Spayed female cats are the most likely to bring gory gifts to their owners.
By leaving a dead animal on the back porch, your cat is acting out its natural role as mother and teacher. You, her loving owner, represent her surrogate family. And frankly, she knows you would never have been able to catch that delicious mouse on your own. www.livescience.com
So, Ollie, you may well be innocent.
They both continue to sleep through the mop-up operation as I bend down to scoop up the mutilated, headless corpse with a piece of Kitchen Towel.
I know from past experience what dead rodents can smell like, I cover my nose with my left hand and shielding my right hand with kitchen towel I start to scrunch up the remains.
I can’t smell a thing, but the memories of scooping up deceased rodents in the past come flooding back. They are ingrained in my olfactory memory banks as, still in my pyjamas, I retch all the way to the field, the final resting place of the victims of my killer cat(s).
Not the best way to start a day.