I'm getting to know a darker side about my new cat. I've written recently about his ongoing conquest of the local underworld, bringing in high numbers of pocket gophers and devouring a scrub jay.
Regarding that column, a woman wrote in a letter to the editor noting how dangerous cats can be on the local bird population.
I could see her point. I've never known a cat before who was this into hunting. My first cat brought in a few field mice and a memorable lizard she hid in my shorts. But Moxie has out-hunted both of those cats combined in just a few months.
The other morning I was trying to hold onto those last eight minutes in bed.
I heard a flump on the hardwood floor.
Tommy came in and said in astonishment "Moxie got a squirrel. Get up. You have to look at this."

I peeked up over the covers enough to see the dead carcass of a mid-sized to small squirrel, splayed out next to the rug.
Not wanting to acknowledge the situation, I rolled back over and covered my head while Tommy went to get something to wrap it up.
While he fetched, I could hear Moxie prancing around his kill, dancing like a football player in the endzone.
Tommy said he was surprised Moxie could even drag it in, obviously to present to me.
This is all way, way too much killing. At first it was kind of cool, those pocket gophers that had torn up my lawn for 12 years would be diminished. But at this point, I'm wondering if my cat is evil.
I hate to admit it, because I'm afraid I might get another letter to the editor for my ignorance, but at first we were actually rewarding the cat with treats when he brought in another rodent.
But now I want to spray the cat with vinegar if he brings in another kill.
I don't know if there is aversion therapy or something you can try with a cat that has virtually lived on its own for the first year of its life.
Hmmm.
One reader already sent an e-mail about giving him a bell, which we have periodically, until his break-away collars disappear after some tree-climbing adventure.