Sweet, domestic cat by day, vole exterminator by night, I prowl the premises and get rid of voles with my incredible skills in stealth, stalking and staking prey within my sharp claws. I live with a lovely woman and her little girl, both of whom adore me. The woman has given me a very soft bed to sleep on during the day, a wide variety of delicious foods, and fun toys to chase and bat around the few hours I’m awake when the sun is up. The little girl dotes on me, and who can blame her? I’m soft and beautiful and I let her pick me up, carry me around as I’m draped over her shoulders, pet me and tease me until her mother makes her “be soft,” whatever that means.
As the evening approaches and the sun goes down, my wild predator side emerges. Soon, the woman will open that front door and let me loose on the world for a few hours before she calls me back inside. She offers me food, but I’m usually satisfied during my time in the wild outdoors. I’ve usually gorged on a rodent of two during those brief hours of freedom, especially since I am a vole exterminator extraordinaire.
I begin with my normal routine. I get down to about the third cement stair and roll around. I rub my house-cat scent all over, making sure all the other felines know that this is MY house, my territory. Then, I roll around in the dirt, which works to mask my scent a little. Then, there’s running time. Under the chain link fence and I’m streaking across the neighborhood as fast as my legs will carry me! A day of pent-up sleeping and it’s time to get the blood racing.
Only then am I ready to take on my noble role as a vole exterminator. I enter into stealth mode, poking around in the undergrowth, the garden, and seeking out any holes or scent of voles. I listen to the ground around vole tunnels and vole holes for any sound of vole activity. Once I know a vole is in there, I slink back to an appropriate hiding place and lie in wait. Sometimes, I’m weak, and a passing bird or dog barking will distract me, but usually I can wait for the longest time. I don’t pounce when the vole sticks its nose out of the hole. I don’t pounce the moment it exits the tunnel. No, I wait until it’s a little too far to duck back quickly to safety. Then, I’m like lightening, and the vole is in its death throes before it even realizes it is caught between my sharp teeth.
Satiated and happy, the evening’s work as vole exterminator is done. I get back inside the warm home, purr as the woman gives me cold, clear water to drink, and head off for another well-deserved nap.