The cats love to go "out." "Out" means the screened-in front foyer which is barely more than a meter square. The screen door doesn't always latch properly and they could easily push their way out into the real world but they're happy in the sunlight and humidity. They just sit and watch the birds and the squirrel and the occasional car traveling by. And the lizards.
Jasmine (aka "Fat Cat" due to packing it on because her metabolism slowed considerably after she was fixed but her appetite didn't) caught a lizard a few days ago. She has a habit of racing out the door into the corner of the foyer where she'd seen a lizard on her very first outing. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred there's nothing there. This was the hundredth time. She ran out, snagged the lizard and turned just as the kids raced out to join her. She actually half-growled, half-hissed at her own daughters as if to say, "My lizard. Mine. Back off." She'd never done that before and the kids were shocked. But the best part was, in trying to express her claim, she had to open her mouth slightly and the lizard took full advantage skittering off into the inaccessible crease between the foundation and the screen.
She caught another one last evening. Or possibly the same one. Could be a slow learner. My brother let them all out and almost immediately I heard him yelling, "Bad cat! Put that down!" Jasmine ran back into the house with her mouth full and it took both of us to trap her under the bar chairs. My brother took the lizard from her and put it outside in back.
Jasmine was pissed and sulked for a while. The kids had no idea what was happening. They play with bugs and spiders they find but they've never killed anything and never eaten anything that didn't come from a can or bag. Mom, on the other hand, despite being half-again as large as when she first came to us, obviously still remembers her foraging days.
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