Dagobaz, my ornery, blackened & furred cat of mystery, has recently taken up hunting.  Being a cat, I suppose it is instinctual for him but for whatever reason, be it his stint as an LA city cat or my vegetarianism rubbing off, he has never seemed interested in being a mighty predator.  Then, about a week ago, his latent feline thirst for blood finally emerged, and within 2 days we were the proud recipients of a dead blue jay in the kitchen and a half dead mole in our bedroom.  The semicomatose mole was a bit disconcerting, as poor Edgar had to finish the gruesome job that Dagobaz had started.  Having a blind mole nose around your bedroom till 3am when you finally realize that the pitter pattering sound you’ve been hearing is NOT rain on the roof but a half dead rodent scurrying around in the darkness, is not too pleasant either.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the predatory season was over, and Dago went back to being his lazy, non-killer self.  Some people would say he just lost interest but I think he wanted to prove to us and to himself that he still had it in him and domesticated or not, he was still a bit of a wild beast.

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