The Happy Hunter by Catherine Osborn
Online - 09 November 2020
THE HAPPY HUNTER
My cat came growling through the kitchen door,
A mass of writhing feathers gripped in jaw.
She let it drop upon the stone-tiled floor,
Then held it fast with powerful, vital paw;
Growled in her throat again, surveyed her prey
With gleaming, yellow eye, triumphant stare,
Then, tearing feathered chest, all speckled grey,
Dragged half-dead, fluttering mass towards a chair.
Swished tail as bleeding body thrashed about,
Watched gulping gasps for air of tiny beak,
Sat down when death throes ceased and light went out
Of frightened eyes. Got bored then. Went to seek
Myself, meowing, rubbing at my feet
And coaxing, calling for her Kattomeat.
Catherine Osborn has won several awards for her short stories. A collection of her light verse, Sweet & Sour, is in press; publication expected in December.
The Happy Hunter