People think the fall is hunting season. No, for cats like me, spring is the true hunting season. My brother caught and killed a mouse in a spectacular fashion, throwing it around for hours and growling at anyone who messed with his toy. He was most upset when it stopped playing back. At least he had fun. My sister caught and crunched one of those funny little black things that keep flying around here. I think they're called flies. I keep hoping to catch one, too. Or better yet, a mouse. I keep stalking the same places he got his, but I haven't had luck yet.
We also keep finding box elder bugs wandering around. And that's only the beginning of the buffet line that comes with spring, or so the older cats keep telling me. Moths, butterflies, mice, caterpillars...Wow, where have you been all my life, spring? All seven months of my life. I guess I kind of skipped spring all together last year, didn't I? Ah, well. I'm here now and ready for action.
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