Gozer has been hunting chipmunks and mice in our yard since we got her. Last year we caught her with a stiff, dead mouse in her mouth and then a floppy, newly-dead mouse. At that time we weren't sure whether a cat had killed the mice and she'd just taken them or if she'd killed them herself.
Whether she killed those mice or not, we now know for sure that Gozer hunts and kills mice. This morning I watched her follow something through the grass with her ears forward to catch all the noises. I turned away for a couple of seconds and when I turned back she was coming towards me with something in her mouth. She dropped it, picked it up, and ran towards me with it before dropping it in front of me. It was clearly freshly killed by her.
No wonder she eviscerates her plush squeaky toys, and I'm grateful that she didn't get the chance to do that to her kill today. Her new nickname is "The Huntress."
In other news, I feel awful. The physiotherapist did the lymphatic massage on me and I've been feeling awful since then: exhausted, incredibly nauseous, bad heartburn, terrible gas, and smelly evacuations. It's great that the massage did something but I could do without these side effects.
Happily, my compression sleeve and glove have arrived and I'll be picking them up tomorrow. This means that I won't need to wear the compression bandaging all the time and that is some kind of thrilling. I'd feel more thrilled if I didn't feel quite so awful. I hope I'm better tomorrow.