This is my cat Blitzer.
He used to hunt birds when they were up in the trees.
One day I was standing under one of my fruit trees and it started to rain small animal parts.
There was a bird wing, hind quarters from a rat, part of a little skull that with the eye still in it.
In all, there were the remains of at least three freshly killed animals at my feet- and in my hair but I choose to not dwell on that part of the story.
So we l will fast forward to this part:
Do you know how conventional wisdoms says when cats bring you their kill they’re giving you a gift?
I’m pretty sure that was not Blitzer’s intention.
Blitzer was the kind of cat that writers see in cemeteries and haunted houses and riding on broomsticks and sucking the breath from babies.
I was lucky enough to have that fantastic cat in my life for almost 10 years.
I miss you Mr. Blitzer and I hope that wherever you are there are lots of trees and that the Moon is always full