When I first met the Red Queen, she had (and still has) two pets. A big Bouvier named Jack LaLanne (God rest the origional) and a cat named Merlin.
I'm not big on cats anyway. I don't actually hate them as I sometimes proclaim, but overall not a huge fan. I really didn't like Merlin. Really.
Merlin was this big, fat, grey, effeminate house cat. Lazy... Fat and lazy.
I brought him across country, from Texas to North Carolina in a big diesel Dodge with the two dogs hauling a horse trailer full of our stuff. We broke down in Meridian, Mississippi and had to spend an extra 3 days on the road.
When we arrived at the new house, Merlin changed.
The Red Queen, although technically working from home has had to spend large amounts of time up in New York, leaving all the men in her life here together. Maybe it was the huge influx of testosterone into his lifestyle, but Merlin dropped 3-5 pounds. He stopped sleeping 12-14 hours at a time, and started stalkind around the house like a small grey tiger. He has a waist. He no longer looks like a fuzzy grey blob. I far as I was concerned, he was an OK cat... Now.
About 6 months ago, I found a pair of lizard legs on some of my tools. Very small lizard legs, but I realized, Merlin was hunting. Something he had never done before, except for shoe laces and catnip mice. I was proud that my influence had made him a functional cat, not a sleeping and shitting machine.
Last night, I was lying in bed when Merlin hopped up with me. Not unusual considering we are just in the process of getting heat. However, instead of curling up beside me as usual, he dropped a mouse on my belly... And no, it was not a catnip mouse, nor was it actually dead... Or even really stunned as far as I could tell, since it immediately ran up my chest, across my neck, down my arm and off the bed.
As you can imagine, I jumped up, and as I stood there wild eyed, Merlin shot me a look like, "What'd you do with my mouse, man?"
Then, almost bloodhound like, he followed the scent off the bed and out the bedroom door.
Definately not the big fat lazy effeminate house cat he had been a scant year ago.
Merlin is an OK cat... But next time I hope he presents me with a dead mouse.