Bye Bye Birdie

A rite of passage 4 years in the making occurred in our little family yesterday. Cosmo, who is a member of the species felis silvestris catus, finally FINALLY F I N A L L Y did a felis silvestris catus-like thing and deposited a small dead creature on our doorstep. (it was a bird) Here's the thing: Cosmo is a mean, ornery, domineering animal. He is short on affection and long on demands. He abandoned such trivial practices as 'play' years ago and his relationship with us now consists mostly of:
-'FEED ME, SIMPLETONS.'
-'FEED ME MORE.'
-'NO. YOU WILL NOT WRAP A PRESENT OR CUT A SEWING PATTERN ON THIS PARTICULAR PART OF THE FLOOR- I DECIDED I WANT TO LAY HERE. WAIT FOR ME TO FINISH.'
-'LET ME IN, KNUCKLEDRAGGERS.'
-'LET ME OUT, DAMN YOU.'
-'LET ME BACK IN AND FEED ME MORE FOOD.'
-'EXCUSE YOUR FACE, I'M TRYING TO GET TO THE WINDOW. I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE SLEEPING.'
-'MOVE YOUR BOWL DOWN SO I CAN BIFF AT YOUR CHEERIOS WITH MY PAW. NOW.'
-'LET ME OUT. YOU AND THE WHITE CREATURE BORE ME.'
-'TAKE YOUR HAND OFF MY FUR, YOU'LL MAKE IT DIRTY.'
-'I HATE YOUR ANKLES, HOLD STILL WHILE I MAKE THEM BLEED AS PUNISHMENT FOR EXISTING.'
-'DON'T BOTHER ME, I'M SHARING A SPECIAL MOMENT WITH THIS BLANKET AND THIS BLANKET LIKES ME JUST THE WAY I AM.'
(imagine all of that said in a voice similar to a Stewie Griffin's, only more bored, and maybe with a touch of Willem Defoe)

In light of this less than loving situation, for him to leave us a present (even one as misunderstood as a dead, possibly diseased thing) is nearly stunning in its implications. HE LOVES US, he just has a hard time saying it for fear of rejection. We were very moved; so much so that we mounted the dead bird to a board and hung it on the mantle with the date and some of Cosmo's paw prints as a signature.

Well, there's always the possibility that he truly hates us and deposited the bird on the doorstep much like the ol' horse head in the mattress message. That's probably more likely. It's surely more of a 'You're next, bitches' message than a 'Thank you for rescuing me from the jaws of euthanization and always giving me food and shelter and medical care and staying up late to make sure i come home in one piece instead of making me spend the night outside with the fugly possums and sketchy alley cats.' Of course, there's no way of proving that he didn't:
-Find a the bird already dead and drag it around out of boredom until he found something more interesting to be creepy with.
-Steal the prized kill from the neighbor's cat (i call him Catsumoto because he looks like a samurai. What? it's funny!) with whom he has a 2.5 year staring contest rivalry, and claim it as his own.
-Systematically lace the earth with arsenic and other chemicals, causing local insects to absorb it and build up a tolerance and thus poison and kill the bird that ate the insects. (Do not put it past him. The minute you declare anything as 'beyond him' is the minute he decides that is how he will destroy you.)
-Kill the bird as a representation of his tough catliness to send a message to all the neighborhood kitties (there are plenty). Our yard may look like a litter box, but it's his litter box and his only. Know about it.

i suppose the case of the toe-up doorstep bird will remain a mystery until our giant angry beast of anger is caught in the act of being something less than diabolical and more like a pet.