Hey, this is me, Inkspot, otherwise known around here as Puff or Puffy. I am a big guy but I'm a nice guy. Well, the critters I hunt don't think I'm so nice. Here's an older picture of me and the Cindy dog. This is for Charlie down there in Australia. Cindy was an Australian Kelpie. They are a herding breed. She didn't want to work full time with cattle so she got sent to a foster home. Then the folks adopted her. She liked to herd us cats. She has since gone to the Rainbow bridge. Probably staring at the kitty cats there.
Anyhoodle, I actually came over here to hijack the little barking doggie's blog to tell you about some of my hunting skills. I know some of you readers are cats. Cats who live inside. Cats who maybe don't ever get to hunt nothing but maybe bugs.
I'm gonna let you have a little fun by reading about my life here in the wilds of Idaho.
And I'll tell ya right up front, this is gonna be gory. If your peeps are squeamish or sissy, you better not let them see this.
Ok, you been warned.
Way back a few years ago, I had me some fun on the Dogster/Catster place with a Scottie dog name of Ernie George. He fancied himself a great hunter. And maybe he was. But we had us a brag-off going for awhile. That LWD, Zaidie, might remember it.
My skinbro made this picture for me. I told those doggies it was a slow morning. Mol!
Ok, so those aren't my real hunting deal. But I do hunt. I once brought home a seagull. Dang, that thing was hard to get through the fence but I managed.
We (my sisfur Scooter) and me catch little birdies. Robins, Cedar Waxwings, little yellow birds but not starlings or magpies. The peeps don't like us to catch those birds but hey, we're cats. It's what we do.
We catch a pile of mice and voles and stuff. We eat them in our garage. There's always blood stains there like some kind of crime scene. And did you know there's a part of the critter that doesn't taste good? It's a little green bean shaped part. Tastes nasty. Just leave it for 'Dopted Mommy to sweep up.
I know, that sounds sissy calling her 'Dopted Mommy but that's who she is. We were born here on the place but my furmom disappeared when me and my brofur and sisfurs were jus tiny kittens. The peeps fed us milk outta little bitty bottles. We turned out just fine. There's just my sisfur Scooter and me left but we are going on eleven. Not bad for rough tough outside cats.
Back to my hunting skills.
Once the folks pulled into the garage and saw me with a weasel. I was mighty proud of that critter.
And then one time 'Dopted Mommy found something amazing. She's not sure who caught the deal but the whole thing was pretty cool so she got a picture of it. This is not a set up, this is how she found the mousie. Remember the squeamish warning? Get ready.
There it was. I musta not been very hungry. Just had the head. Brain food. Mol!
Well, maybe ya want to go lay down or something now. But I figured you might enjoy about my hunting skills.
'Till next time.