No me, for sure. But sitting out late upon the patio the cat - fat, indolent cat that likes nothing better than to be rubbed and petted and snuggled, springs into action.
There's a flurry of paws and a moment later he has a mouse between his teeth. When he sets it upon the grass I see if it can be revived - the other cat brings her prey home alive (to be taken away and released by me) - this mouse isn't so lucky, he's punctured through and through and thoroughly dead - wet to the touch from the abundant cat saliva - he's not done with it yet. He flings it into the air, bats it with his paws, finds it, repeats, loses it in a plant pot, sniffs it out, flings it into the air again, bats it some more.
There's a very real danger of dead leaky mouse landing in my lap, but I have to stay and marvel at such a display of his feline prowess, and am filled with a newfound and rather grudging admiration. There was a standing joke about this cat, that if he ever caught a mouse he'd cuddle it to death, it's been now entirely disproven.
He sets it in front of the mat - the welcome home offering, then thinks better of it and picks it up to throw it into the air again....
Who woulda guessed?