Update on Muffy, the hunting cat.
We were missing her for a couple of weeks and feared she had met with a coyote or something. I found her crawling up the fence line. She had been trapped in a leg hold trap and perhaps attacked by an owl or hawk before escaping and coming home.
We retired her to a house cat where she immediately took up new responsibilities--she became nurse maid and baby sitter to our newborn son, Smith. She'd lay in his crib and tell us if he turned over or needed a diaper change. He was HER responsibility!
While having to give up hunting, she showed more new talents. She became a retreiver--chasing and returning toys.
Muff lived to a ripe old age of 18 and now resides in the sunny area under the bedroom window where she spent her last days remembering the hunt.
We had another cat who would accompany us out back, but never showed interest in large game.
Thanks to my experiences with Muffy, I have enjoyed many special ground moments. Several years ago, I watched a group of does come across the hay field towards me in the woodlot. Headed to the path next to me.
I set up behind an old oak and prepared for a close shot...probably 5 feet and waited. And waited.
A small twig breaking made me turn my head and the lead doe was right next to me. Instead of taking the path, she had entered the woodlot through a small gap in the brush.
Not having a shot...nor being able to reposition myself, I did the only thing left--I put my hand on the doe's rump.
She exploded and almost broke her neck on the tree in front of her...bouncing off the trunk. Funniest and neatest thing I ever saw.
Every time I hunt, I give thanks for being able to share and learn from that special animal that me the opportunity to learn that life is more fun and fulfilling hunting on my feet than sitting in a tree.