And They Just Keep Getting Bigger

Seemingly no longer content with mere rats and mice, Cat has taken to a new prey: The common, omnipresent squirrel.

Seen here following what I surmise from the bite marks along its spine to be a particularly horrible death, this squirrel left the safety of its arboreal abode only to be struck down by the vicious claws and rending teeth of Portland's finest killing machine.

Though it is easily three times the size of Cat's largest victim to date, the squirrel's assassin seems none the worse for wear, though it should be noted that he didn't bother to carry this one inside, instead leaving the corpse splayed on the concrete in our apartment complex's parking lot -- no doubt hoping someone would discover his handiwork on the morrow.

No Good Deed Goes Undone

No doubt miffed over the theft of his prize last night Cat took to the streets this evening with one thought on his furry mind: Vengeance.

Unfortunately the diminutive rodent who so narrowly escaped death only 24 hours ago was not so lucky this time.

As if to drive home a warning, Cat left the corpse near my apartment's front steps -- the one place where no one would be able to miss it. "Death comes on furry paws," the tiny, still body seemed to intone, "and no one escapes Death."

My Good Deed For The Month

Moments ago I was awoken by the familiar plaintive mewling of Cat.

To the surprise of no one reading this blog, he'd found another victim, only this one was unlike any he'd brought me before. For one thing, it was much smaller than any of his previous kills. Where his victims had previously all been disgustingly large rats, this one was a tiny mouse or perhaps a shrew.

For another thing, this one was far from dead.

I first spied it as a small black mass struggling under his relatively huge white paw. It scampered a few inches away as Cat meticulously watched, letting it get just far enough to allow the feline killer a joyful full body leap onto his prey. He batted it a few times, but the poor little rodent just wouldn't give up.

Despite the seemingly futile struggle, it continued its attempts to flee only to have Cat pounce on it again and again.

Then, feeling the same twinge of guilt one would hope a benevolent god would feel in having witnessed the plight of the Haitian people during their recent cataclysm, I decided to step in. I picked Cat up, sequestered him in my room, scooped up the surprisingly healthy rodent, and spirited him outside. I placed the little fellow out in the garden, whispered a few words of warning ("Dude, seriously, get the fuck out of here!") before returning to my room.

By this time Cat was incensed at having been robbed of his kill and was clawing at the door to my room, shrieking like a feral banshee. I opened the door, watched him sprint to the point where he'd last seen his prey, and turn back to me as if to say "How dare you rob me of my kill! I know where you sleep!"

Now dear readers, I'm off to bed. I can only pray tomorrow won't find me with my otherwise loving pet having split my jugular beneath his polydactyl killing utensils.

The Horror, The Horror

Faithful readers will recall my last entry in which I detailed Cat's new favorite method of rodent assassination: Destroying the brain by masticating the skull.

I offered up an example along with that last post, but it didn't quite illustrate the truly horrific nature of this killing method. Tonight's kill however, well let's just hope you didn't eat before visiting the blog today.

I don't know what's more disgusting, picking the corpse up for disposal and having one of the tenuously attached ocular orbs fall onto my leg, or listening to Cat crunching away at the rodent while snapping these photos.

Do you have any idea what tiny skull shattering into fragments under the teeth of Nature's most perfect killing machine sounds like?

As of a few minutes ago, I do.

A Taste For Brains

Apologies for the gulf between the last bloody update and this one. I went on vacation, left Cat at home and couldn't convince anyone to take up the grisly task of documenting the wholesale slaughter.

'Tis just as well anyway. The night I return Cat decides to surprise me with a particularly grusome gift.Instead of merely killing and delivering another rat, this one was the unfortunate victim of a horrific new killing method Cat has been testing: Devouring the brain, through the skull.

Like so many walnuts in the jaws of maniacal nutcrackers, I walked out into the hallway to find Cat crunching through the surprisingly soft skull of his latest kill. On further inspection I noticed that it was only so soft because Cat had apparently spent many minutes smashing it to bits with his jaws. He didn't seem to want to remove any parts of the skull, so the rat's head was quite intact, but it had the consistency of an overused hackey sack, complete with metaphorical beans spilling from the holes that went unnoticed by me until the corpse was safely in my hand.

I can only hope Cat saw this as some sort of pre-emptive strike should his victims ever attempt some form of mass zombified revenge.

Another Night, Another Corpse

For the second night in a row, Cat delivers death. It's almost like he knows he's got an audience now and feels the need to put on a show for you people.

On the plus side, Cat politely opted not to wake me up with plaintive mewls when he brought this one in.

On the negative side however, I had no idea there was a dead, mutilated corpse lying on the floor of my bathroom until I tripped on it (in bare feet) on my way to pee a few moments ago.

As an aside, I'd like to draw everyone's attention to the giant wound around the rodent's shoulder/neck area. It seems that severing the spinal column has recently become Cat's preferred method of execution, whereas a few months ago he preferred slicing their tiny stomachs open, pulling out their insides, and letting them bleed to death.

I don't know if that means that Cat has become more humane (catmane?) or if he just got tired of listening to them squeak like bitches for minutes on end. Either way, I pity the local wildlife.

Two For One

You may be wondering why I chose tonight to start documenting Cat's activities. The answer is simple: While Cat has always been a prolific killer, tonight he's been consumed with an unholy bloodlust the likes of which the Ancient Sumerians would pen epic poetry about and Sam Raimi would ascribe to angry, demonic trees.

Twice in the span of the last 3 hours I've been pulled from my bed by his mewling outside my door, only to find him chewing through the spine of a dead animal in the middle of the hall.

After the first kill I got the idea to set this thing up, so it's almost polite of him to then find another target to kick things off around here.

Thus, I give you the inaugural kill.

Sadly, I may not technically be able to give Cat credit for this one.

While he dragged it inside and mutilated the poor thing, he left it alive and I was forced to snap its neck to end its suffering.

Never let anyone tell you that owning a cat isn't a grisly business.