My Cat Caught a Mouse for the First Time

I have two cats, Kiko and Freddy, and Kiko has, quite literally, never hurt a fly. As in, she once trapped a fly between her two front paws and when she slowly prised them open to have a peek at her ensnared prey, it flew off without so much as a bent wing.

Another time, I found her playing pat-a-cake with a frog. A frog who, once gently placed back in the pond, swam away looking buoyed by his latest life experience.

Freddy, meanwhile, once caught three pigeons in a single evening. And yes, we do put bells on him. That particular evening he was actually wearing three. He’s just too slinky for his own good. That, or else pigeons hold a deeper belief in Father Christmas than I’d previously realised. And are stupid enough to be drawn to sleigh bells in the summertime.

More recently, Freddy was lying on his back in the garden juggling three (sighted) mice and smoking a cigar while Kiko, about a meter away from him, was performing an intricate ancestral dance around a tiny moth who appeared, quite frankly, flattered by the attention. Come to think of it, it was the first time I’ve ever seen a moth blush.

With all of that in mind, you will understand why today’s occurrences form a landmark occasion. Kiko, aged ten, caught her first mouse. And I don’t think anyone was as shocked as she was.

I saw a flurry in the uncut grass and assumed the typically sedentary Kiko was feeling inspired by the Commonwealth Games and trying her luck at a spot of rhythmic gymnastics when, wide-eyed, she ran towards me with a mouse and a fistful of grass in her mouth. By the look on her face, I honestly think the mouse was an accidental by-product of her usual grazing. She ran around for a bit, barely keeping it together and looking only marginally less assaulted than the still-very-much-alive rodent.

Upon dropping the (at this point still physically unharmed) creature, it was genuine surprise at seeing it shake itself off and attempt a dignified exit that meant Kiko could do little more than repeatedly slap it round the face.

It was like watching the abused become the abuser. First, Kurt Zouma slaps a cat. Then, a cat slaps a mouse. I think the only way to break the cycle is if a mouse slaps Zouma and we all consider it case closed.

After a brief session of ‘Let’s poke and lick a mouse while I try and decide what the heck to do with it’ (Kiko’s actions, not mine), she decided to actually act like a cat for the first time in her life and ate the whole thing. Well, everything except the tail. She has her limit.