Death At Midnight

You may consider the title of today's blog entry to be somewhat melodramatic.  All I can say is, you weren't here to witness the carnage that we were exposed to.  I can only hope that I don't have to go through such an experience again.

We inherited a fellow tenant when we moved in - a feline tenant with a claim on the property.  Squatting rights, even.  We are told that this small, black cat walked into the house out of the jungle and proceeded to give birth on the premises.  How are you going to evict such a visitor?  The owner, with his Cockney rhyming slang ways, named this interloper China Plate (whatta mate?).  Regardless, the cat answers (being a cat when she damned well wants to)  to China.

During the day, China hangs out up in the loft or in the garage, sleeping the day away.  At night, you can often see her in the yard, quietly waiting.  Waiting for what?  Last night we found out.

When the sun is up, China can be extremely vocal.  If she thinks it's breakfast time and someone is up, she let's loose with a continuous stream of meowing.  Meow, meow, meow.  Meow, meow, meow.  And so on.  She's affectionate and wants a bit of a rub when she's getting her cat chow.  Seemingly, a very, sweet, friendly little creature.  Seemingly.

After the sun goes down we never hear from China.  Not until last night.  A pleased meowing was coming from the garage area.  I went to investigate.  I should have just gone to bed.  China was proudly strutting around her fresh kill of rat.  A nice big rodent, about her size.  She had a feral, cocky, see what I've done kind of attitude.  A don't mess with me sort of stance.  I congratulated her and slunk off to bed.

Next morning.  Oh the horror!  It seems China has an excellent knowledge of rat anatomy and is a practiced vivisectionist.  The spine and internal organs of the ex-rat were left at the killing site.  The masticated body, China had moved to the work bench, a much better venue for a night of chewing and bone crunching.  My beautiful Bicycle Components Extreme was exposed to this horror for the entire night.  It may never ride properly again.

So far as China was concerned, the rat was not a proper meal.  When I awoke to the horror which she still proudly surveyed, she was meowing as usual, demanding her cat chow.  A night of dissecting and masticating rat only gave an edge to her appetite.

I fed the once again friendly black cat who graciously rubbed up against me as I spooned out her kibbles.  Satiated she climbed her ladder, no doubt to sleep soundly in the loft, dreaming her Stephen King dreams.

WARNING - Click here for disturbing, graphic images.