I gave away my cat on Facebook
December 22, 2009 | Just me
I inherited Hally the cat from my daughter, who adopted her from a shelter at the age of six weeks. She tried to take care of Hally in a small apartment and it was disaster, so she asked me to watch her.
Hally was affectionate. Sometimes too much so, climbing up on my chest and putting her paws around my neck like a small child, refusing to leave until I pried her off. But I loved her.
She was also a hunter, something we discovered early. Hunter cats aren’t really meant for indoors, because they hunt toes, pant legs, couches, pillows, or anything else that might slightly shift or move. So we moved her outdoors and it became cat heaven–for her.
But our deck became Armagedon. The hunter now had real-life prey. Every morning I was greeted with the face of some unlucky animal. Maybe a rat. A mouse. A mole. A rabbit. She ate everything but the face and whiskers, and the liver. So a mostly-eaten face sat on my porch or back deck, with a green round liver next to it. Some days she left me two prizes, one on the front porch and one on my deck.
The killing often took place right outside my door. And it looked like it. I won’t describe it. “Gross” covers it.
If I heard the horrible events, I ran out and stopped her, trying to rescue whatever it was she had dragged to our house from the nearby fields.
Usually I was too late.
The other day I went out and she had evidently had the hunting night of her life. And it was too much. I didn’t want the gore anymore. I didn’t care how affectionate she was. I just can’t handle blood and guts every day.
So I went on facebook and advertised her. It read like this:
One friendly two-year-old cat. Fixed. Shots. Ratter, moler, mouser, rabbiter. If you need a hunter, she’s your cat.
I received a quick response from an old friend. “Suzie, don’t give her to anyone else. I want her!”
When I put her in the carrier beside her favorite cat treats, and packed her food and dish, I had a moment of regret. I really do like this cat…
but then I stepped out on the deck for a moment and saw the latest kill. The face of a rat grimaced up at me, a round green liver beside it.
I heard from my friend 24 hours after the delivery. The cat loves her. She likes the cat. They have a farm and rats have invaded their barn, boldly coming around the house.
Sure, I miss Hally, but she’s exactly where she needs to be. Her talents will be praised, rather than resented.
She’s in cat heaven, I’m sure, and the rats have no idea that a new sheriff is in town.
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