Going Native

Many BethanyC readers are familiar with the adventures of Milton, that highly photogenic cat.

Milton is four years plus and throughout his young life has been a bit more dog than cat. I'm sure this is attributable to his being orphaned in the side yard of my house in Almost West Texas, bottle fed by yours truly, and finding the only other furry creature in sight an aging but good natured retriever style canine who was very patient whilst Milton and his litter mates clamored up and down his fur and occasionally nestled in close for a little nap. This early modeling resulted in perhaps the perfect cat that comes when he's called, sits in laps, and follows you about the house and yard padding quietly along beside.

I'm afraid however that since moving to our new digs in November Milton's been running with the wrong crowd. Somehow or other he's got into his head that he is indeed a cat and is exhibiting distressingly catlike behaviors. Despite losing of his manhood early to the machinations of someone in the veternary field he's taken to going around the house howling like the most Tommmiest Tom you've ever heard.

Also, and definitely more disturbing is that he now apparently fancies himself a hunter. He's yet to make a kill (thank goodness) so we're not into trophy hunting territory yet and I haven't found any dead mice left on the porch in tribute but I have twice found him carrying terrified field mice about. On the one hand, this is very good because I think some of them nested in my shed where I would rather them not be and perhaps being carried about in a cat's mouth will be enough to encourage the field mice to relocate to a more peaceful environment. On the other hand, it is just so very catty and who knows whether this catiness will escalate?

What has gotten into him? I suppose it truly is a case of nature over nuture. He certainly was raised to greater things, it's just that darn nature asserting itself again.