I grew up with animals. Normally a few cats and at least one dog. My brother had a black cat, named Battle Cat. Yes. My brother was very young when we got him. We also had his sister, a three legged cat named TC.
When we were very young the dogs across the road killed TC. Battle was shattered. He began to pine badly and went into decline.
After a few weeks my Dad managed to get a hold of another cat, to be my very first (though nobody EVER owned that bitch). A half starved stray. Brendy. She stayed because we fed her and it was safe. She never tamed, though in her old age she did like to sit on mums lap.
Battle and Brendy bonded straight away. I tried to find a b-word for 'straight away' but I don't really have the time. Would have been cool though. Can I make bimmediately a word?
They used to sleep on top of the dog kennels together. Sometimes Battle would sleep inside it, and Brendy on top. But they were always in close proximity.
When Battle was very old and decrepit (about 12, maybe more) he couldn't hunt any more. Which was a damn shame, because he was a farm cat and he liked his fresh meat.
One winter night Brendy was hanging around the door, waiting to come in. Someone said not to let her in because she had a mouse. About 10 minutes later I checked to see if she was still there, and if she had the mouse. I couldn't see it in her mouth, so I let her in.
She had the mouse.
I made a grab at her but she eluded me. I made another grab and I got her. But by this stage she had dropped said mouse.
Right at Battle Cat's feet.
She caught this mouse, bought it back to the house and waited around, for at least 10 minutes, in the cold, for someone to open the door. Just so she could give him a mouse.
Whoever says that animals aren't compassionate have no experience with them. People would be put off by all the hard work involved in catching, carrying and waiting. But not the cat. And she was a real bitch.