Before Rocksy even had a name—or allowed me to touch her—she brought me a gift. It was a vole – one of those little rodents that chew through the roots of newly planted trees, leave holes scattered across the yard, and generally make a nuisance of themselves. The poor creature was barely alive when Rocksy proudly dropped it onto the concrete in front of the door, as if to say, “Look what I brought you.”
I thanked her as though she had delivered a treasure. “Thank you for this wonderful present! You’re such a clever hunter, and such a pretty girl. It’s exactly what I’ve always wanted.”
That first gift sealed the deal. In that moment, I knew the little yellow cat had accepted me. She rolled over the dirt, showed me her white belly, and then rubbed against my legs. I would have tried to pet her then, but she was still feral, and I was pretty sure she would have tried to scratch my eyes out for the effort.
I don’t mind Rocksy gifting us with voles. After all, they killed our trees! Since voles sit fairly low on the food chain — somewhere beneath cats — they often meet their demise when they cross paths with Rocksy. She still brings gifts from time to time and now offers them to the man of the house. She has learned that gifts earn her praise and, occasionally, special favors. We still haven’t figured out whether Pebbles brings presents too, although she sometimes eats them.
Some days we walk into the garage and find a critter lying in front of the door as a welcome gift. Sometimes the little creatures are still alive, sometimes not, and every now and then all that remains is a tiny head with pointed ears and a sharp little nose.
Rocksy taught Pebbles to hunt by bringing dazed mice or voles into the garage and letting the little squeakers loose so the youngster could practice catching them. Now Pebbles goes on hunts of her own. She may even be the one leaving the heads behind for us!
One morning, Rocksy came to the front door, peeked inside, and carefully set down a vole. She looked so proud. After we showered her with praise, she picked up the tiny squeaker and carried it away. Later that afternoon, she returned with another gift — a little snake. Thankfully, it was already dead! I made sure to tell her what a good hunter she was then.
The other morning, I found a Savannah Sparrow Rocksy had brought in the garage and let loose. I praised her for not killing the pretty little bird. After I rescued the sparrow, I released it safely in the flower bed. I thought maybe Rocksy listened to my speech to about NOT catching birds, but she proved me wrong when little bird feathers were found a couple of days later.
So if you come to visit and Rocksy brings you a headless varmint, just thank her for accepting you as part of the family!
