Max, the Hunter

Since we've moved to Trout Lake, we've been slowly transitioning our cat Max from being indoor-only to giving him some time outdoors. Initially we would only let him out for short periods, and we would follow and monitor him while he was outside. Later as all three of us got more comfortable, we began to let him outside on his own; we would just leave the front door cracked so that he could push it open when he was ready to come inside. We still limit his outside escapades to daytime; we're still not comfortable letting him out at night with all of the coyotes we hear (and occasionally see).

Max makes it fairly clear to us when he wants to go outside. He'll wait by the front door and meow whenever he sees us; sometimes he'll even lead us to the door. He's been good about coming back inside before it gets too dark outside, but several times recently he's managed to get outside at night. One night he snuck out a window in the bathroom which was left opened after being cleaned. On another night he managed to shoot past us as we came in the front door. Corinne and I grabbed flashlights and very slowly chased him around the yard, trying not to make too many fast or startling movements while at the same time trying to keep up with his moves. You can't really appreciate the expression "herding cats" until you've tried it.

Why does he want to go outside so much? That became clear recently: hunting. We knew he could hunt; when we lived in Husum Max caught 5 voles in the house. We were proud of him for catching them, but a bit distressed that there WERE voles in the house. I guess he was just waiting for an opportunity.

The first Trout Lake animal he caught outside and brought to us was a bird, probably an Oregon Junko. There was no question that he brought it to us, either; we were sitting in the great room and he just dropped it in the middle of the floor and proceeded to bat it around. Corinne felt bad for the bird, so she told Max that he was only to catch mice from now on.

A week later, Max caught a vole - this time we were upstairs in our bedroom, so he brought it there. The tally so far is up to 5 voles and still only the one bird; I guess he was listening! Thankfully Max has killed all of the animals before bringing them inside, but twice now he has started to shred them on the floor after briefly playing with them. We try to give him a little time to enjoy his kill, but as soon as any blood appears it's time for an airborne burial - hurled into the woods.


Now if he can work himself up to catching gophers, then we'd REALLY be appreciative.

- Mike (& Corinne)