I don’t think I’ve really mentioned our felines in a regrettably long time.
I think I may’ve mentioned it before, but Luna… well, I don’t want to say she’s stupid because there’s certain things she’s really good at, but overall she is a few cards short of a deck.
When it comes to knowing when I open a bag of wet food or a treat, she’s right on top of it.
When it comes to playing fetch with one of her little neon or foil balls (or twist ties) she’s keener than a bloodhound.
When it comes to catching and eating the pesky bugs that fly in the windows in the summer, she’s queen.
Or so I thought, until yesterday.
I don’t typically bother turning my attention to Rex and Luna when they come barreling into the room because it usually just means Rex is kicking Luna’s butt at wrestling and she’s trying to avoid the beating (she usually initiates it anyway and then proceeds to lose to the larger, heavier cat…duh). This time the stampede was preceded by a loud buzzing and I noticed a larger than average bee dragging itself somewhat speedily across the floor. Then as the cats watched, it crawled under one of Luna’s balls and commenced with twitching, causing the ball to move a few centimeters, seemingly on it’s own.
Rex sat watching, like he does, letting Luna have priority inspection/play rights (because while he has proven time and again he can pound her if he’s inclined, he tends to let Luna do whatever she wants, including eat/ drink first and get first dibs on treats and toys). Eventually the ailing bee crawled out from under the ball and Luna sat perplexed, swiping first at the bee and then at the ball, alternating between the two, seemingly unable to decide which one she should play with.
I left the room at this point because it nauseates me to see my cats mauling another living creature, but it’s exercise and eventually some protein, so I let them do it, I just don’t watch. If they ever graduate to birds though, I may pass out.
Anyway, somehow the bee buzzed it’s way swiftly back into the adjoining room (where I’d joined Piet to watch some tv) and managed to get itself up and against the window, which was cracked open at the top (and on the third floor, which ends up somewhat relevant). This was the bee’s fatal error because Luna is best at snagging bugs when they’re up against that window. So Luna lunges, the bee disappears and the buzzing stops.
I feel relieved that the bee’s suffering is finally over and Luna hasn’t been stung.
Then Luna trots over to my feet, opens her mouth and drops the still living bee on the floor. I yank my feet up off the floor because I’ve never been stung before and have an intense fear of going into anaphylactic shock if I ever am. The bee, probably disoriented and horrified, manages to drag itself once again to the window, and this time gets to the opening at the top and flies out.
Luna, brainiac that she is, leaps after it, the top half of her very skinny little body practically hanging out the third floor window. I yell at her, she looks at me all wide eyed and innocent and then plops down and stares at the window like her lost toy is just going to buzz right back in for her amusement. After several minutes of waiting, she eventually lays down next to the window (which she has never done before) and grooms herself to sleep, still awaiting the bee.
This from the cat that is so happy to see Piet or I walk in the door that she thumps her head off the ground trying to prematurely cuddle us.
Which I suppose may explain the seemingly brain damaged behavior she exhibits in the first place.