Have you ever heard the old saw that men are the only animals that kill for sport? Animals just kill to eat, but humans kill for fun. This is because we're so evil compared to the rest of creation or something. A month and a half of cat ownership has blown that whole concept out of the water.
We have a minor bug problem. Somehow crickets finagle their way into the apartment. I think we have some foundation cracks or something. BC, before cat, I took care of them by spraying them with insecticide or picking them up in a tissue and crushing their fragile six-legged bodies within my mighty fist. But now we have a cat, so generally one of us just points the cat towards the bug and watches him deal with it. In a way Milo performs an important "man of the house" function for Amy when I'm not home.
Lets just say I grant the insects a much quicker death than the cat. They meet their ends with overwhelming force from a Strong's Concordance or other solid reference work. Or the aforementioned mighty fist. My cat, on the other hand, plays with them until they tire and then he kills them right before he loses interest. On at least one occasion, I've had mercy on a bug Milo had discovered and killed it quick. Milo was very disappointed. In me.
And he doesn't eat these bugs. They do go into his mouth briefly so that he can administer the death bite, but he generally just leaves the carcass on the floor for Amybear to find later. Which she loves doing by the way.
If I hear this whole men are the evilest animals schtick again, I'll just tell that hippy to get a cat. I'm not saying we're good and cats are evil. I'm saying that once again my belief in the sinful screwed-upedness of the universe is confirmed.
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