His rite of passage had come.
Her night to die had arrived, far too soon.
She meant to do nothing more than grab something to eat.
He saw a opportunity that could not be ignored.
She had no idea he had seen her, or was zeroing in on her as she ate.
When she did realize he was coming, it was too late.
Running and hiding did not work.
He had above average eyesight, tracking her easily no matter where she attempted to hide.
Viciously catching her head, he slammed her against the ground.
She rose to her feet with difficulty, trying in vain to run.
She managed to stumble away, not noting the blood running down the back of her neck.
He followed and caught her yet again, knocking the breath out of her.
She lied there, gasping for blessed air to return to her lungs.
She hoped in vain that all he wanted was sport.
Sport was something she could survive, after all.
Lying there looking up at him, she suddenly became angry.
She rose up and fought for her life, though she did not know this at the time.
Anger robs us of our finer instincts, blinds us to the danger standing right above us.
Her anger blinded her to the horrors yet in store for her.
Perhaps this blindness serves us, for if we knew what lay ahead.
We would never move forward.
She fought bravely and with courage.
Yet he swept her aside as if she were nothing.
Grappling with him, she felt his enormous strength, resolve, and yes, curiosity.
He was not used to this then.
She had a chance.
Then he bit her.
She was so stunned, she did not fight, but instead shivered in shock and horror.
Seeing his advantage, he threw her in the air.
Pawed at her as she hit the ground, hitting her brutally, over and over again.
Still she did not give up.
She rose up again, dizzy and disheveled.
Found herself on the ground gasping for breath.
Another bite wound, this time on her shoulder.
Her fear became great then.
She could not equal him in strength.
She could not run.
She could not hide.
Yet still, hope survived.
Where there is hope, there is the will to fight on.
Wearily, she drug herself to her feet again.
Launched a counteroffensive before he had time to react.
Swiped at his face, bit him out of fury and a desire to throw him off guard.
Cautious now, he approached from different angles, hitting the most tender areas.
Biting when he could.
She still stood, swaying on her feet.
Just wanting to survive.
Suddenly, as the last of her adrenaline reserves were called into play.
He easily caught her, and the beating, biting, and battering continued.
We’ve all seen movies where the good guys win.
Where at the most crucial moment, the heroine finds the determination and anger within to fight.
This was not a movie.
In the real world, in this small drama that was unfolding.
She lay on the ground, gasping, in shock, and unable to get up.
He stalked around her in a circle, occasionally reaching out to hit again.
Shock has it’s blessings, and this case was no different from any other.
She could not feel his repeated blows, nor the bites.
Could not realize she was being kicked and pummeled, and thrown in the air, time after time.
Unknown to both parties in this ugly, pitiable scene.
A face watched from a nearby window.
The face reflected emotions which varied from sorrow to stony indifference.
The scene witnessed, after all, plays itself out countless times over the course of a day.
The mind behind the face that watched knew this.
Knew what it was like to be the cat, strong, curious, and powerful.
Had been the mouse many times, struggling to survive, wanting only to eat, sleep, and provide for family.
For this saga was merely a game to the cat, his rite of passage, his first kill.
It was her death..
Yet this mouse’s death did not pass unnoticed.
Mine was the face that observed the “game” that proved deadly to the mouse.
I do not confine my observations to humans.
There is great wisdom to be learned from animals.
This was merely a lesson that deserved reinforcing.
Reality dictates at times we are either the cat or the mouse.
The lessons that can be learned from observing the small dramas around us can prove invaluable.
Looking, but not actually seeing.
Listening, but not truly hearing can, as was the case with the mouse.
Prove deadly for us all.