I could go on and on about the superiority of Dawgs. This week Ratchett-Cat proved it again.
Compare Hank to Ratchett. Hank’s a lab/pit bull/lap-dog mix. He wasn’t born a great hunter. But I spent my first years with a pack of hunting American Fox Hounds, until I was dumped off at a county park and found my Forever People. I knew all about training to hunt. So as soon as Hank joined our Forever Family, I taught him to Scent-hunt. He’s a dawg so he’s a quick learner. He can sniff out deer poop almost as fast as I can.
Yesterday, Ratchett-cat finally learned about hunting from his mother, Zoey-cat. Since the whole cat clowder are ‘inside’ slackers, she taught him using their toys. He was off to a bad start when he thought he was hidden behind this see-through cloth.
Then he howled his way upstairs carrying his blue stuffed mouse to MomPerson. He found her, howled again, and spit that disgusting toy out. Really. He spit it! No dignity.
Hunters do NOT spit out prey. Depending on the prey, you gently lay it down to show it off. Or you eat it, like deer poop. No spitting. Ugh! Nasty cat slobber all over the mouse!
Mom and DadPersons have been discussing why Ratchett doesn’t actually catch any mice. Obviously he does and then he … yeah, spits it out.
Sigh. Hank may need a refresher course on hunting. This morning he was eating grass, like you know who next door.
Just Saying,
Superior Woofers: Rufus and Hank
