Last year, Pusur brought home dead prey every night. He even sometimes took a nibble, if he was hungry enough. He got lean and mean.

This year is different. He’s obviously tangled with a group of birds we call trost here (not sure what it’s called in English. Most likely he’s killed one of their young.

I’ve seen this type of bird swoop down and peck cats before, if they get angry with them. And they never forget. And even if they don’t try to injure the cat, they’ll put up such a racket, the cat will remember what could happen.

Pusure is quite the fraidycat. Always has been. I think it had to do with the day he got lost and couldn’t find his way home. That’s how he came to us. He must have had quite a few traumatic experiences that day, enough to make him the fraidycat he is today. Everything is dangerous, especially loud noices.

One day Pusur came home with a scar on his nose. After that he would hardly go out except under cover of darkness. Pretty tiresome having a cat who’s supposed to go out and won’t! Then after a while he got bolder, and started going out during the day again, even seeming to think about hunting again.

Once again he’s sporting a scar on his nose, and once again he’s shimmying across the lawn with his belly flat to the grass. And he’d rather lay behind a bush than be out in the open. And he’s mostly inside during daylight.

And no more presents in the morning.

Poor Pusur!

This entry was posted on Sunday, June 6th, 2004 at 5:06 am and is filed under Cat Diary. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.