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Poem: Le Chat Dans Tous Ses États

| December 29, 2011

The game heats up. Politely, the cat helps her prey to play its part. Standing on her hind legs, she holds it in her forepaws like a mother kangaroo with her baby.

Then the pair seem to leave the earth altogether. Paws outstretched, in a whirlwind of excitement, the cat raises her victim up as high as possible before dropping it.

What a wonderful game, she thinks, if only the mouse could fly! But it drops down heavily. The cat follows, light as a feather, pacified by her aerial exertions, and for a moment feigns exhaustion, before love of the game spurs her on.

Such a charming playmate cannot be allowed to die: the cat tries to revive it by little taps of her paw. Each playful pat is a wounding blow, but heedlessly she goes on, stubbornly trying to coax a response equal to hers in vitality.

Death, when it comes, satisfies the hunter, but disappoints the player.

Author Unknown

sent in by Magda Geleijnse

Category: Feline Resources

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