I was right about my kitty

She was lying right at the back door that we never use. Poor thing had been shaken pretty badly. We planted yet another kitty in the pet cemetary in the hill. Duchess was old for an outdoor cat. She was born right when I had my mastectomy 6 and 1/2 years ago. That little furry thing used to curl up in my lap and nip at my fingers while I was going thru the healing process. She out lived her Mom Furball and her twin sister Fuzzy. Duchess was one patient cat. She would hang for hours in the top of this dead oak in my yard and wait for the pesky woodpeckers to come home. She brought me many squirrels and birds as 'gifts'. Once she brought me a flying squirrel and it was still alive. I brought it in and saw that it was disabled and put it in the bird cage. 'Wally' lived for over a year coming out to glide at night from shelf to chair and shoulders. She never did get over the fact that I took her lunch and raised it.

I sat and watched her hunt one afternoon. It was amazing the amount of concentration and the stealth that a cat possesses. I also realized that I did not want to hunted down by a carnivore! All of the cats zeroed in on a mole this summer and it took them 30 minutes to move just a few inches. Each twitch of the tail must of been a signal to the others on when to move. And they caught a whole family of those yard destroying varmits. IT was an eye opening show.