One of my cats nasty habit of catching moths when she was over a year old, almost 11 now
| The Cat and The Moth
6th August 2001
I can see you flapping your skinny wings,
Smell your fear as you bump into things,
No light to guide you not a spark anywhere,
Just a blind clumsy moth in despair.
I watch patiently as your feeble brain forgets me,
I move into position knowing you can’t see,
A shake of my tail, a pounce and I have you!
You weren’t fast enough; there was nothing you could do.
What will you do when I lift up my paw?
Instantly flee, but I grasp you once more,
Getting weaker you struggle, I’m tired of this game,
Stay quiet little Moth, I’ll soon end your pain.
I feel a soft flutter beneath my feet,
I have a dark void I think you should meet,
I lick at lips, anticipating the crunch,
Then purring loudly my supper I munch.
Now you can tell by the look in my eye,
The night is young, many more yet can die,
Farewell to the Moth, that one is gone,
But there’s still plenty of room to another one!