She prowls by night, sleeps by day--or pretends to. She'll curl up in your lap like a little bundle of fur, but one false move, buddy, and she'll snarl, showing her sharp teeth and maybe even use them. With her arched rib cage full of air, she's buoyant, ready to spring into action, as when she hears her food being opened.
A black-and-white lady who's no lady, one moment she can lie there as impassive as an ornamental rug. Then you spy a black-and-white streak across the yard, where a flutter of wings announces some little bird's demise--or maybe narrow escape. Sometimes there's a real prize at the end of the night's hunt, like a mouse to play with before being devoured. Red in tooth and claw, like Nature itself, she savors every bite. Merciless herself, she can be at the mercy of a passing blue jay that comes at her like a dive bomber. She's a reminder that life is full of surprises. And so is death.
Editorial on 03/03/2016