Our eldest cat is very sick. He has cancer, so we know we have him for only a while longer. Mostly he is OK. He is a bit slow (never did move much), doesn't eat a lot (used to be a vacuum cleaner), and sleeps a great deal, mostly on my husband's office chair or in a fruit box on the verandah.
Five minutes ago I was watching our beautiful boy relaxed and dreaming with that dainty twitch that cats apply to their sleepy adventures. His long luscious tail was in "dead to the world" mode, but the paws and ears were moving with semaphoric glee. Suddenly he shot upright, leapt off the chair and into the chaos next to the filing cabinet. I thought to myself, poor lad, he's continuing his dream amongst the files, briefcases, boxes and shoes in the cupboard. He was manic - ears forward, tail swishing. Then it occurred to me, the absence of the daily dead mouse on the office rug may be because one had escaped. Sure enough, our huge cat came out of the corner with a live mouse between his jaws. Clever lad!
So he was taken outside to dispatch it. The years fell away and he was that surprised moggy who we never thought capable of catching anything, proudly playing with a tiny rodent. I think he had early lunch and I am a sad but proud momma. I hope he has many more mouse adventures in the days left to him.
And post-prandial groom