My Kitties (With Killer Instincts) Warning: Disturbing Images To Follow

Kitten Princess Dora


We own 2 cats. Our first was a sweet rescued kitty christened Princess Dora. She was only a tiny kitty when someone found her on the road wet, muddy and sick. We took her in and brought her back to health. She has retained her sweet disposition to this day. She's my hubby's favorite cat. 

What a cute little bundle of fur!

Awwww! Little fuzz ball.

Princey' all grown up.

That's right Princess, roll in the dirt and get all dirty (disgusting).

Whaaat! Who? Me?!

It's just a little bit of dirt Mom!

Our other cat, Cinnamon, came from someone DH works with. The fiancee was allergic to cats, so Cinnamon had to find a good home. We offered to take her. When DH brought her home, Emmy and I were so shocked at Cinnamon's biggie meal size. My first comment was, "you're going on a diet; you feel like a tub of lard." And thus Cinnamon became know as "Tubby." 

Tubby doing what we thought she liked to do best.

At first blush Tubby/Cinnamon seemed like such a harmless cat. She's claw less, friendly, loves laps, and enjoys getting her fat rolls massaged. She'll jump into any stranger's lap. Her two obvious drawbacks are her shedding and her slobbering, a lethal combination. The more you pet her, the more she rubs her slobbery mouth all over your hand and the more she sheds. You feel like you've grown a new coat after a few minutes. Emmy described it best when she said, "Tubby used my hand for a napkin."

Tubby's always the first to lay with us when we're not feeling well. 

We should have gotten our first clue when Emmy said, "Mom, Cinnamon's eyes look angry." And so she's right. Cinnamon does look pissed off most of the time. I told Emmy, "it's just her kitty features." Our second clue was the comment Cinnamon's former owner made when she said Cinnamon likes to go outside sometimes. And so we'd let her out, along with Princess. They'd always return for breakfast. Months went by without incident. 

(She's tolerating Bibi fairly well.)

But then, these little presents began showing up on our porch: a vole, an occasional field mouse, a vole with it's head chewed off, a dead rabbit... We figured it was Princess, who'd now grown to adulthood and still has her claws. Though I had my doubts because the only things I'd ever seen Princess catch (and eat) were houseflies. "It couldn't be Tubby," we said, "Tubby works up a sweat just watching Princess play." (Tubby would never play kitty games with us, only Princess. And if she would, on rare occasions, bat at a shoe lace, I'd say, "Oh look at Tubby, she's acting like a real cat!)

Cinnamon and Princess, drawn by Emmy (5)

Then entered the fateful day this past spring. I was enjoying the afternoon on my front porch when I heard an unusual squeaking sound. I looked up and there was Tubby running toward the front porch with something large and brown in her mouth. It was a baby bunny, a live squeaking baby bunny! I began shrieking , "DH! DH! DH!" 

"What?!" He's all disgusted, standing in front door with door wide open.

"Look at Tubby!" Tubby drops her bundle, still very much alive by hubby's feet. 

Hubby stares dumbfounded while baby bunny takes off- inside the house.

"Aaaiiee!!! Catch it! Catch it!" DH, Emmy (5), Bibi(4) and myself stumble over each other trying to catch BB who's terrified and tearing around the house. I had visions of rabbit pellets shooting from it's bottom on my clean carpets, like something from a James Bond car. 

Finally we corner the poor little thing and released it in a wooded part of our yard. We could not believe that Tubby Cat was such a hit man. Since then we've had a steady stream of "presents" on our porch, most of them voles, and all of them dead. There has been an occasional rabbit, one particular gristly specimen missing it's head and ears, but they have not been left on my porch, thank goodness. 

Another "present". 

At least Tubby had the decency to carry it off the porch to do what she's about to do...

Cute little brown thing, isn't it...

Stupid me, I thought she was just going to sniff it.

Tantalizing to the kitty senses...

Mmm, mmm,...yessss...

Ewww, Tubby's gross with her rodents.

Crunch, Crunch, Crunch 

Snack, Snack, Snack

How sweet, Tubby's eating her supper when we are.

So I don't know about Tubby, perhaps it's pent up aggression, maybe it's some sort of therapeutic outlet...I don't know. But she has killer instincts.