The Curious Case of the Cockroach and the Cat

Last night I decided it would be a good time to start a new game of Mass Effect. All was going well until I saw something scamper across the floor from the corner of my eye. Now, it's really not very uncommon to find the occasional gecko in the house. In fact, I'm quite fond of them unless I find them decapitated by the dog. I'd actually noticed one on the wall the previous night and since I had taken no action against the little guy, one might presume he was still lurking around the house somewhere.

But this was no gecko. And no one knew this cold hard truth more than the cat who I soon found chasing frantically after the mystery creature.

A little background on Clover, our pleasant little house cat. Clover was adopted at the ripe age of 4 weeks when she was found by a good samaritan on the side of the road. I had been looking to adopt a cat because Felix, the love of my life, is currently living quite comfortably with my parents in the states and I don't feel comfortable shipping him out here. Though I have always considered myself a dog person, I have always also had a cat and typically I find them to be respectable, independent and easy to manage pets. Bowl of food twice a day, scoop of the little box, done. Also, they were always the easiest pets to hide in a pet-free apartment.

Clover was unkind from the day that I met her. A friend had informed me that a cat had been found, and, being a big believer in fate, felt that it was an obvious sign from above that a cat had shown up the day after I announced that I was ready to adopt. I convinced myself that the poor little kitty was just scared and confused, being too young to stray from the rest of the litter. I just knew that she would grow up well and that we would be the best of friends.



Clover never became unkind.

Despite my attempts at snuggling and holding and playing, Clover never enjoyed my company.

Now Clover is several months old, and while she has become much bigger, she has maintained her unruly ways. She is no lap cat. She lurks in the shadows and attacks without warning. She hisses at anyone who enters our home that she does not deem immediate family. She chews on the dogs tail then growls at his efforts of retaliation.

Where was I? Oh, right so last night this creature is scampering across our floor when BAM! Clover is on it. Next thing I know, there is a live cockroach the size of my hand (okay, the size of my thumb) in the cats mouth while she parades around with it, insisting to show the family her accomplishments. She looks at the dog like "WUT." The dog wants in on it, but the cat is not up for bargaining. In fact, she's not ready to call it quits. She lets the cockroach go, gives it a brief head-start, and starts this game all over again. Now, while I'm all for fun and games, I'm really not comfortable being in the same room as any bug you can hear crunch under your foot. While Clover clearly feels differently, I had to call in a third party to take care of the situation: the husband.

I will admit it was a group effort, but the fact of the matter is that my cat is a huntress and a protector of the family. We may not see eye to eye, but she now has my respect. I would prefer not knowing what it is that she hunts down on a day-to-day basis but if her skills create a cockroach-free environment for me, then I'm okay with keeping her around. Go Clover, go!