That seemed like ages ago, in the earlier years of my childhood in the kampong. When was the last time you saw a cat stalking and catching a rat or a mouse ?
We had one lean & mean Tommy boy, living on fresh rodent sashimi three meals a day. Alas, one day he went out and never returned.
The later replacements did not seem to be interested in hunting rats, mice or birds or anything that was alive. They were contented to purr and brush their tails against our legs, waiting for some nice fried fish or meat or papayas (yes, papayas). Otherwise, they would do day-long siesta on the sofa with four legs facing the ceiling.
Had they made peace ? Or eating rats wasn’t feline chic anymore ? Let us see if we can get an explanation in Lee Ang’s next blockbuster.
In our kampongs, rats and mice were everywhere. They usually came out in strength at night to wreak havoc on any uncovered or unprotected food items. Even leather shoes and bags, and soap (yes, they liked soap, and still do) were not spared.
At nightfall, we would set up WMDs at strategic places. Each of these snap-traps was generously provided with a nice bait – usually a slightly roasted piece of dried sotong.
Over the following few hours, there would be a series of “snaps” and squeals, as these rogue rodents received their death sentences after foolishly biting and tugging at the baits – actions which triggered the traps. Sometimes, the steel bar on the traps could not kill the victims, especially the bigger ones. So we had to get up and deliver the coup-de-grace with a spear.