Cat Stash

She pulled back the edge of the carpet and bent down to look at my stash of “treasure”. I froze.

The look of shock when she saw mouse heads, tail feathers, a wing, half-eaten dog treats and an elastic hairband said it all. 

She screamed.  

I bolted into the bedroom and hid for cover under the bed. 

From my vantage point, I watch my human drop the carpet over itself and pace back and forth.  Each time she faced my treasure trove, she shielded her eyes to block it from view. 

“Wherever you are, cat, you’d better stay out of my sight.!”

Yep. She was not happy and I was once again in trouble. 

Personally, I couldn’t see what the big deal was.  

That stash was a collection of my finest achievements. I’d spent hours torturing those mice – they’d always put up a good fight. The heads were well-earned trophies, just as the tail feathers were my rewards for near-impossible catches. 

That wing was closest I’d come to total bird inhalation. 

Need I explain the dog treat and hairball?   

At first I thought my human found the good sense to walk away and respectfully leave my treasured possessions be, but that was wishful thinking. 

Just as my human returned gloved up with a dustpan and broom, the bone rang. 

Saved by the bell. 

She ripped off one of her rubber gloves and answered the phone. 

“Do you want a cat?” she asked whoever was on the other end.  “The little feral has been killing mice and birds and storing them under the rug, somehow. What? Gifts? Yeah, I know. But I don’t want his ‘gifts’. Yuk!”

Ah, someone has convinced her my treasures were gifts for her, I thought. I kind of wish I’d thought of that on Valentines Day when she was watching her Netflix alone, but I’m a cat living in a “dog eat dog” world. I don’t share!. 

As she disappeared from view I darted my eyes back to the stash. That was when it occurred to me that I needed a new hiding space. 

This is as good a place as any, I thought, scanning the dark space under the bed. 

It’s now or never. Seizing the opportunity, I dashed from under the bed to rescue my treasures, accidentally flicking the carpet over them with my back paws. 

Damn! I started to claw the corner of the carpet in an attempt to lift it and get to my treasure. 

“Stop clawing the carpet!” 

Again, I froze. 

“Seriously, do you want a cat?” she asked, disappearing again. 

My heart sank. Was my human serious about giving me away? 

No time to think about that now. I had treasures to rescue. 

After more clawing I successfully lifted the carpet and stared, overwhelmed at the glorious pile. 

The phonecard would end soon, so there wasn’t much time.

Which do I save first? Sacrifices were inevitable. 

I scooped up the wing and secured it between my teeth and crouching low, I scurried back to my cave under the bed, dumped it in the darkest corner and darted back to rug. 

One by one I rescued what I could. Making decisions on the fly, I started with the mouse heads until there was one left. 

My human emerged and I froze, with it in my teeth. 

“What the-” 

“Yowl!” I gazed up at her with my best sad-kitty eyes. 

“Where are all the- what is in your mouth? Put it down!” 

I foolishly dropped it. 

She stepped forward with the broom and I snatched the mouse head between my teeth. 

“Get that outside!” she yelled. I took a step towards the bedroom but realised that was not the smartest idea.  

Not wanting to lead her to my new hiding place, I swallowed the mouse head and slunk away, abandoning my sacrificed treasures. 

I could hear my human wrenching and grumbling as she swept up the mess and left the room. 

I settled into my cave and harked until that last mouse head was out of my throat and lying in the pile of treasure I managed to save. 

I loafed next to it and admired the lot like brand new prizes from my latest battle won.