Pyscho Jungle Mouser Cat

Fredlet is a cat who knocks. When he wants to come in at night, he jumps at the door a couple of times, which pushes it further against the frame and creates a thudding sound. If we don’t answer quickly enough he’ll meow, just in case we didn’t understand his first attempts. Last night Fredlet knocked at our kitchen door and practically pushed the door open with his face when I went to let him in. I’d only gotten the door open a crack when he smushed himself through and ran into the living room. He meowed hello, but it sounded a little garbled. I didn’t think much of it. Our last cat, Basie, used to meow the same way—back in his throat—when he wanted to be extra loud. I figured Fredlet had discovered the same skill. As I followed him into the living room, I saw…a thing…go flying up into the air and back down. It was long and dark and skinny. “What’s that Fredlet? Did you get a leaf?” my Mom asked, from her spot on the couch, as Fredlet tossed his new toy around. Just as I crossed the threshold between the kitchen and the living room, the leaf hit the floor, grew legs and ran right for me. “It’s a MOUSE!” I yelped, as Fredlet pounced on his “leaf.” For the next couple of minutes the mouse would get tossed, Fredlet would pounce on the mouse and catch it and then dart away as my Mom would attempt to pounce on Fredlet. I stood in the kitchen and watched. Sometimes a scene is so shockingly funny you just can’t move, you know? Finally, Mom managed to catch the cat just as the cat caught the mouse and literally tossed the cat out the front door. “Mrrrrrrrrrarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr” Fredlet growled as his feet hit the ground. “You play with that outside Mister,” Mom said and slammed the door shut. With wide eyes she looked at me and I said the first thing that came to mind, “Technically, he was bringing us a present.” I offered, and we both began laughing. Not too long later, Fredlet “knocked” at our front door, and I cracked it open. “Are you finished playing?” I asked him and he looked up at me with his big yellow eyes. He didn’t make a sound, he just looked up at me with a big, sad “please let me in” look. That’s when I noticed the weird fur on the sides of his mouth. Fredlet is a black and white cat. His face is black around his eyes and ears, but the fur covering his nose and mouth and “cheeks” is white….normally. This time it was a dark brown color and looked a little stick-outy. “What is on your face, Fredlet?” I asked letting him in. “Is that mouse blood?” I asked. “Did you kill that mouse?” my Mom asked, in her “aren’t you a smart cat” voice. Fredlet took a long look at my Mom and then spat the mouse on the floor. The mouse laid still long enough for me to grab a couple of pot holders. I was going to scoop it up and take it outside, but just as I bent toward it, it leapt to its feet and raced right for me. That is when I said “Eek!” for the first time in my life and in a move only a true little-league-wannabe can understand, stood straight up and watched that mouse run right underneath me. I even bent down to watch him scuttle across the floor after he passed between my feet. Fredlet, true to jungle cat form, lunged for the poor Mouse, and caught it. He carried it back to the living room, where he spat it out. This time it ran for some plants. Fredlet caught it. “Catch him! Catch him!” my Mom yelped as I attempted to pull Fredlet away from the planters. Of course the cat was too fast for me and the mouse was just a touch too fast for the cat and Fredlet only managed to catch the mouse by the tail. That’s when, in a stunning Mouse Toss he flipped that mouse up in the air and it spun toward our dining room. I grabbed the potholders and Mom grabbed Fredlet. “Catch the mouse! No go that way! No! There he goes!” my Mom squealed as she chased after the mouse, while still holding the cat. It took a minute, but we finally managed to corner the mouse under our kitchen table. Mom, still holding Fredlet ran to one side of the table and shoving Fredlet toward the mouse said “Here’s the cat mousie!” Fredlet of course stretched out his claws, causing the mouse to flee in my direction. I bent down, potholders at the ready but as soon as the mouse saw what he was running toward, he came to a screeching stop and then ran back the other way. “Oh no you don’t” my Mom said, shaking Fredlet at the mouse one more time, “I have the cat” at which Fredlet’s eyes opened wide and he stretched all of his legs toward the mouse. The mouse then did an about face and ran back toward me. When he got a couple of inches from me, he looked up at me, sighed a little mousey sigh and just fell over. His eyes were open and he was still breathing so I knew he wasn’t dead. He (I’m guessing it was a he) let me wrap him up in the potholders and then set him outside. My Mom came to the door behind me, Fredlet still hanging between her hands, to see the mouse get up, take one look at Fredlet and take off across the pavement. The poor mouse obviously had a broken back leg, but he ran like a bat out of nowhere. If I could hear mouse I am sure that I would have heard something along the lines of: “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!! CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!!! Oh dear oh dear oh dear oh dear oh dear oh dear.” After the mouse was safely inside our neighbor’s garage, we shut the door. Mom dropped the cat to the floor and we both howled with laughter. “I have the cat! I’m scary! Rarrrrrr!” I said, holding my stomach. My Mom didn’t say anything, she was laughing too hard to make any sort of sound. Fredlet looked up at us with round “where’d my toy go” eyes. “Mrow?” he asked. “Yes, Fredlet. You are a fierce jungle cat,” I told him. He looked up at me for a second and then bounded toward the kitchen table. “The mouse is gone, Fredlet. He’s outside.” I said, as the cat sniffed all along the wall. When he realized that the mouse was, in fact not anywhere that he had left a smell, Fredlet walked out to the middle of the dining room floor, made sure we were watching him and then turned around and flopped down on the floor, with his back to us. “Awww, is somebody pouting?” my Mom asked. Fredlet harrumphed once and then laid his face down on his paws. I went over to pet him. “Aw Fredlet, you are a fierce warrior hunter cat. We had to side with the mouse” I told him. Fredlet gave me a withering stare as I pet the back of his head and then got up, walked over to our plants and once again laid down with his back to us, harrumphed and put his face down on his paws. I looked at my Mom and, doing my best to keep a straight face, said “Maybe we should get some cat toys. I don’t think I can handle any more leaves.”