Last year I wrote a blog about how I was pretty sure that my animal totem is a hummingbird.
So what does it mean when your cat decides to start hunting and murdering your animal totem and bringing it home to you as a sacrificial gift?
The other day Budapest proudly and enthusiastically maimed, tortured, and ultimately killed a tiny baby Hummingbird right in front of me. (For those of you wondering why I didn’t save the hummingbird, its neck was already broken by the time it reached my services, thanks for asking.) I’m not a cold-blooded accomplice to murder; neither am I the sort of person who can bravely kill an animal to put it out of its misery. So instead I was rendered helpless and fascinated and near hysterical as I watched Buda turn the entire affair into a long drawn out horror movie.
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Curiously, just the day before, I had been having a conversation with my friend Joseph about the concept of “letting life happen.” Joseph is one of your average basic natural Buddhas. He has an amazing ability to stay positive, relaxed and equanamous even when faced with things (and people) that would make a normal person tear their hair out.
While he was giving me this compassionate talking to, I was feeling very resistant. His main point was that it’s always best to BE FLUID instead of trying to control or fight life.
I wasn’t really feeling it. I think decisions have to be made, at some point. But watching Buda murder the bird, I was racked with decision paralysis.
Should I pry the bird loose from her jaws and let it die a slow, natural, lonely death outside? Nope, can’t handle that thought.
Should I help Buda corner the bird—which keeps getting away from her for brief glimpses of possible salvation—so that she gets it over with quicker? Um, that seems kind of sick.
Should I trap the bird in a tupperware container? Hope it will run out of air and suffocate, thus ending it’s suffering earlier? No way dude.
Should I go get a man? (I must admit I did try that particular tactic, but couldn’t find one handy.)
In the end, I let Buda do her thing. I was riveted in horror, but I just let life happen. Or death, as it were.
Nature is brutal.
So is life, I suppose.
And Buda? Extremely proud of herself and full of glee at her accomplishment. Until a few hours later, when guess who’s mom came flying into our house looking for her baby? Not a pretty sight, watching your ten pound cat get chased around by a P.O.ed 5-ounce hummingbird.
It’s like The Nature Channel at my house 24-7.
