Boo-Boo Nights

Boo-Boo Tail loved his South Florida lifestyle, especially during the steamy, humid summer nights between May and September. Of course, he didn’t know, nor care to know, what we called these discrete passages of time that marked, what South Floridians would call “seasons”. He was, after all, just a domesticated, but slightly, feral cat, and, of course, he was totally contemptuous of anything non-feline in nature.

It was a perfect Boo-Boo night. The summer moon, totally full, was high in the night sky, it glowed with a profound and inspirational luminosity as the sky was abundant with damp, humid water vapors that magnified the moon’s light widely across the sky, and widely across the landscape. It was perfect for Boo-Boo’s predatory missions and somewhat less than perfect if one was in the category of being “prey”.

The damp and warm air hung motionless, like the moon itself, reflecting upon a motionless man-made lake, with nary a ripple, that cut across Boo-Boo’s territory. Stillness of motion, stillness of sound; ample light and soft shadows made this night, and the countless eons of nights before it, a better than perfect opportunity for some serious hunting adventures.

Along the lake, the moon illuminated the grasses, trees and bushes that grew alongside the shore. Sitting motionless, under a palm stand, along the shore, but, deep in the shadows, sat Boo-Boo. Time was on his side. So were eons of predatory evolution. The sky was so bright from the moon glow energized vapor, only a few summer stars were visible. It was remarkably quiet, as, after all, this was in a suburb, surrounded by strip shopping malls, fast food restaurants and cookie-cutter home developments. All the ingredients were now in place, for a truly fun romp in the freshly cut grass and richly manicured landscapes along the lake.

Over the years, Boo-Boo had developed extraordinarily strong muscles, honed by countless climbing up and over screened-in patios that had been erected by the insect-shy human inhabitants of the suburb. Boo-Boo could scale twenty vertical feet of patio screening in as few as 8 synchronized leaps. He would regularly forego climbing down screens from a second story domicile – he simply jumped down. But tonight, he knew the action would not be on top of the screens, it would be near the lake, as both instinct and learned behaviors intersected in giving him a competitive insight and edge over his potential universe of prey. His favorite prey, as we learned over the years, was quite consistent – it was rats. He loved them. If a movie was ever made about Boo-Boo Tail, it wouldn’t be called “Boo-Boo Tail”, it would more likely be entitled, “The Silverlakes Butcher” aka Dexter The Cat.

There were plenty of alternatives to rats that Boo-Boo could have had a penchant for. There were baby birds, such as herons, Mockingbirds, Bluejays and Muscovie ducks. Each of these species had fallen to Boo. There were also the reptiles; lizards, anoles, iguanas. Each of these, as well, had fallen to Boo. Then there were the neighbors’ small dogs, “Princess” and “Cosmo”, both small Bichon-Frizes. Boo never quite got to killing them, but, he did enjoy chasing both of them back into their homes and out of the backyards, as they yelped and howled for protection.

Rats, on the other hand, oh boy, he loved rats. Almost every week, we find dis-embowled rats (and rat parts), carefully dissected (and occasionally nibbled-on) and impressively deposited on our door mats. Front door, back door, side door, it didn’t matter. If there was a door, a door mat, then, there was, quite likely a rat. But, nonetheless, quite a dead rat, at that.

What turned on Boo-Boo to rat tracking, rat hunting, and ultimately rat eradication, was that they (the rats), proved to be a prey worthy of the hunt. They too had eons of evolution and learned behaviors in their repertoire of skills. They too, knew how to take advantage of natural and man-made environments to their advantage. They were stealthy. They moved furtively, quickly and quietly. What a great challenge!

Nearly 70 inches of rained had poured from the skies, nearly daily, since summer began this year in South Florida. This was not an even remotely unusual year for rain. The lakes were at their highest point of the year (unless a hurricane dumped even more), and thus the water rode above the (formerly) cut lawns along the lakes edges. Frogs, snakes, alligators, turtles, mosquitoes, tadpoles and fish now swam above grasses that, during the winter months had encroached, unmolested by rising water, deeper into the lakes.

At times, the frogs would begin mating calls, and be answered by more mating calls, only to be answered by still more mating calls, counted not in thousands, but in the tens of thousands, until an eerie high-pitched cacophony of shrill pierced the soundless, thick-aired and moon illuminated night. Louder grunts, of the larger buffo toads and Everglades frogs, would join this symphony, rising louder and louder to a crescendo – and then stop, completely, albeit briefly. Through all this, Boo remained motionless, completely still under the palm stand and observed – and listened – to everything.

The frogs started up again. The cacophony tonight was exceptionally impressive – loud enough to make inhabitants of the homes turn their air-conditioners on high so that the fans and air-handlers would drown out some, but not all, of the late night prehistoric variety show music streaming live, “un-plugged” and un-edited from lakeside. And it was then, after over an hour of sitting in the palm stand, that Boo turned his head, very sharply, to listen intently to a very specific – and very telltale – sound.

If you had been sitting with Boo, you never would have heard it. If you were sitting with Boo, you would not have turned your head. In fact, if you had been sitting with Boo he would have quickly deserted you, because you would be making noises and trying to pet him while he was attempting to do what he likes to do. But if you had heard it, due to having the luxury of high-tech, waterproofed microphones hidden in the grass, it would have meant nothing to you – after all it was only a single blade of grass that had touched, briefly, another piece of grass while you marveled at thousands of unseen frogs

. But for Boo, this was all he needed, it was all that he had been waiting for, and it was all but the end, possibily, for whomever, or whatever, had made the very serious error of causing a single blade of grass to twitch during the full orchestral crescendo of one hundred and seventy thousand lovesick Florida frogs and toads.

Though Boo had turned his head, the rest of his body remained motionless, except for his tail, which was now twitching slightly, but silently, as Boo had purposely sat in a small, cleared area under the palms, which was not prone to generating un-intended noise. He had covered his six. Instinctively, he flared his nostrils and deeply inhaled the thick, vaporous and motionless air. All he needed was a single molecule to confirm the species of animal that had caused the grass to twitch. And tonight, like so many other nights before, Boo got a noseful of molecules indicating, conclusively, that a rat was indeed nearby.

Boo sat up and turned his body further to right and was now staring at the grass that had been so slightly disturbed. Above this grass was a fence that ran about 80 feet from the lakes edge, between two homes, to nearly the sidewalk in front of the homes. Boo approached slowly and silently; his footpads made no noise as he was extremely cautious in his approach towards the fence. The hunt was on, and, at this point, Boo had the advantage of both intelligence on the prey’s location and the element of surprise.

The rat, which was not really a BIG rat, in comparison to the many larger rats that Boo has brought home, continued to move underneath the bottom rail of the fence, through the grass, unaware that only a few feet away was a very focused, motivated and highly experienced predator. However, the fence did provide an element of complicated logistics for Boo, as this fence had a chicken wire mesh that prevented him from walking through the fence beams. This had been erected by the owners of “Princess” and “Cosmo” to specifically prevent Boo from chasing their dogs. Tonight, this obstacle was interfering with a slam-dunk kill. If the rat discovered that Boo was coming, all the rat had to do was run in the opposite direction and the fence would block Boo’s ability to continue the chase.

Clearly, this situation required careful, but quick thinking on Boo’s part. The solution, as required in all cases in the successful prosecution of war, required a winning strategy. For Boo, the solution was to avoid a direct, “frontal assault” on the unsuspecting rat, and employ a tactic to cause the rat to be relieved of its environmental advantage.

Impressively, Boo retreated closer to the lake, and, taking a risk, jumped onto the top rail of the fence, silently and, remarkably, without causing the fence to vibrate at all with him landing on the top. The rail, only 1 inch wide, now held a cat with all four paws on it, and Boo proceeded to slowly walk above the rat which had continued moving toward the sidewalk, but still under the bottom rail of the fence. Quickly, Boo caught up with the rat, and remarkably, Boo continued to stare down at the bottom rail and the grass, yet continued walking, silently and steadily on a one inch-wide surface, about three and half feet directly above the rat. If the rat had paused, and looked behind, it would have noticed that Boo was casting a moving shadow from the bright moon, now almost directly above. The rat, however, was looking ahead and to the sides, and in none of those dimensions were there any observable threats.

Boo’s strategy and cunning continued to work for another 60 or so feet – the very end of the fence. At this point the rat stopped moving, and so did Boo, directly above the rat, and now, with both a superior “higher ground” and the element of surprise tactical advantage! Smart cat, huh? Well, you certainly don’t evolve to being one of the most highly successful predators on the planet without having more than a couple brain cells working really well together on a regular basis, even if you do, at times, piss on pillows, despite your intelligence. If you weren’t an intelligent predator, well, chances are you wouldn’t be here living amongst a totally alien species that goes out of its way to provide you with food, shelter, ample prey and occasionally mind-altering substances, such as catnip.

Nevertheless, Boo found himself exactly where he planned to be and where he had predicted the rat would be. Separated by about 3 vertical feet, the rat still had no idea that bad news – a “heart-ache tonight” – was literally hanging directly over his head.

If you have ever seen rats in the open, you have probably noticed that they run, very fast from point “A” to point “B” in order to lessen the likelihood of being seen. Tonight was no different. After pausing for a moment to evaluate the situation at the end of the fence, the rat then bolted, lightning fast, away from the fence and towards the front patio of the house, where there were really great places to hide, and was much closer to the garbage bags left out for pickup later in the morning by really big and loud men and machines.

The rat, despite its speed, was overtaken from above, by a flying cat that swooped down, with unsheathed claws, instead of wings! As the rat departed from the end of the fence, simultaneously, Boo jumped off the top of the fence, correctly calculating where he would land and where the rat would probably be. He judged perfectly, and, with little struggle, Boo landed directly onto the rat, and, not wasting any time whatsoever, bit down hard and deep into the rats head and neck. Boo lifted the rat up from the grass, and the rat was motionless between his fangs, as Boo quickly scanned the area for any other cats, dogs, or other threats to his prize. Seeing none, Boo proceeded, in his usual proud-warrior manner, back towards the back of the house, through the ‘pet-door’ of the screened-in patio enclosure and onto the back door mat of the house.

Here, Boo released his prize. It didn’t move. Boo batted it with his paws a little bit, and flipped it over a few times. He had killed the rat, and so, he lost a little bit of joy of watching it try to run away only to have him catch it again and again and again. Boo always enjoyed a successful hunt with a lively game of “catch and release”, but, tonight, he was deadly effective in his pursuit, so, the only thing left to do was to eat part of his kill, and then telling his friends what he had done so that they could come over and admire his prize. Each other cat, by the way, also ‘batted’ the rat a little bit. By the time the family saw it in the morning, the rat was ‘mostly’ eaten, and there was quite a bit of evidence that several cats had “played” with the kill during the rest of the night.

Later, Boo cleaned himself thoroughly (well, thoroughly from a cat’s perspective), and I let him into the house. He seemed extremely satisfied with himself and proceeded to walk up the stairs and jumped into bed with Alice. Little did she know that the cat sleeping next to her chin, had just finished eating the head off of a 7 inch long rat that was waiting for her to step on (and admire) when she walked outside later in the morning. Meanwhile, Boo drifted off to sleep, and, unlike all the other cats in this house, he sleeps really deeply and with a very deep and satisfied snore as frogs stop singing and the sun begins to rise again on this most beautiful and brutally prehistoric paradise once known as the Everglades