Please Happy

Today is the first day of spring in the Whaley household.

Rolo made it so.

A little background: I found Rolo on the side of the road as a starving pile of bald spots and blurry eyes. That was over a year ago. He’s now a sleek gorgeous black cat who loves wrestling, biting, cuddling and gorging. Truth is, he could stand to lose a few pounds. (Last visit to Doctor Ernie resulted in the Atkins diet for fat cats.)

When given the chance (food dropped from a plate, a handout, a kitchen empty of people, but full of packaged food), he’ll eat anything. His favorites: Frosted Mini-Wheats, Brown Sugar Pop Tarts, Wheat Tortillas and cheese. This is in addition to his twice daily awesomely organic, high protein cat food meals.

He’s fat and awesome and we love him.

So, after a morning in the snow and the sun, Rolo brought in spring in the form of a small little dead bird. The head and torso were in his mouth, the legs and yellow tail feathers dangling out. Feather everywhere.

Rolo came in the door and then – as if he were showing all his furniture friends his prize – hopped on the couch, on the chair, under the table, in the ski boot pile with the bird clenched.

I managed to get the cat out the door before he tore into warm little dead body. Rolo paced at the door meowing through the mouthful before chomping the poor little birdie’s bones, head, feet, feathers. I covered my eyes for a second, and when I looked back, the bird was gone. Into Rolo’s belly. All that remained was a single feather stuck first to Rolo’s eyelid and then to his cheek.

(Click pics for big versions.)

Now, he’s exhausted, cuddling next to me on the couch. Too tired even to purr.

What did we learn from this?

1. The birds are back, which means spring.
2. The fat cat, who raised himself on the streets until about three weeks old, has still got game. Gotta respect a brother who hunts the old-fashioned way, especially one with a massive gut.
3. He’ll be hungry for dinner in about an hour.
4. Bells on kitty collars don’t do shit.