the circle of life (simple gifts update)

While my children were recently away on a trip, I noticed that I didn’t see much of Missy, the cat. She didn’t bring in the nightly catch of moth or worm, and made herself scarce. It became quite obvious that I am not her favorite person (probably because I am the one who “kidnapped” her from her previous home, took her to the dreaded vet for shots and surgery, and shoo her off my bed at night). I could tell she was quite glad when the children came home, for she was back to her usual routines and her gift-giving resumed. Now I know for sure that the gifts are for Hannah, her favorite.

It is as though Missy senses that Hannah will be leaving for college soon, for she has stepped up her gifting yet again, bringing in a mouse a few days ago and last night not one, but two fledgling doves. At bedtime we discovered them. One she had killed in the bathroom (feathers everywhere) and was eating in the guest room. The other was unharmed, but shaken, cowering in the dining room. What to do? If we let the thing outside, could it find its way home before Missy caught it again? Should we try to take care of it? We decided to sleep on the matter so fixed a little bed for it in the cage with our parakeets, causing no small stir in their sequestered existence. Hannah gave Missy quite a lecture on the value of life and her own satisfaction, if not delight, with the heretofore simple gifts of bark, worms and moths.

This morning our little guest seemed ready to find his own way in the world and as soon as we took him outside, he flew off to the safety of some tall plants. As a precaution, we kept the cat indoors for the afternoon to give the bird a good head start. But, alas, when Missy’s pleadings made us finally relent and let her outside, it wasn’t long before she tracked down that same bird and brought it in again. It was immediately rescued and released outdoors as we locked up the cat again, Isaac muttering all the while, “evil cat…” We watched the little bird regain his composure for a half hour or so on our windowsill, then fly off, landing in the street where it was run over by a car.

Sometimes the “circle of life” loses out to the “food chain.” I just wish we weren’t in the middle of it all. My only solace is the hope that perhaps the gift-giving will stop altogether when Hannah goes off to school in three weeks.