Darcy meets Frumpkin

Ever since Older Daughter moved back in with us – into her own little partitioned "in-law quarters" – she has, of course, kept her cat Frumpkin on her side. There are good reasons for this: Mr. Darcy hates cats, Don is allergic, and we have Younger Daughter's small Quaker parrot Lihn, who is the perfect size for a cat snack.

So far there have been no mishaps or accidental escapes. But at the back of everyone's minds – okay, maybe it's just been at the back of my mind – was the question: What if Darcy and Frumpkin meet? The last thing I wanted was fricasseed cat.

A few days ago, after securing Mr. Darcy in our bedroom behind a closed door, Older Daughter slipped Frumpkin into a harness on a leash and let him explore the forbidden side of the house. He poked his whiskers into every nook and cranny with great interest (although he apparently never noticed the parrot in her elevated cage ... not that we were taking chances).

It should be noted, however, that Darcy has always been very patient with the parrot, who often flies down to the floor nearby where Darcy is laying. He's never pounced or even twitched an ear. Clearly I don't encourage close contact between them (I really don't want to have to explain to Younger Daughter that her parrot met a nasty demise), but it does show a remarkable restraint on the part of Darcy.

So – maybe – we could risk Darcy and Frumpkin meeting.

To be fair, Older Daughter always dismissed my concerns and assured me Darcy would be fine around the cat. And she was right!

We let Darcy out of the bedroom and he instantly zoomed in on Frumpkin, but in a very respectful and curious manner.

Older Daughter has let Frumpkin out several times now, and Darcy has always behaved himself with propriety. Where the neighborhood cats are concerned, he's still a terror (or would be, if we let him). But here on his home turf, he's quite the gentleman. What a relief.

However there's still the question of Lihn, Younger Daughter's Quaker parrot. During his few excursions around the house, Frumpkin apparently never noticed there was a bird in the vicinity. This cat is a Mighty Hunter (more on that in a bit).

Then one day ... he noticed.

Oh yes, he noticed.

For her part, Lihn was just as curious about Frumpkin – but this was a face-to-face meeting we were not permitting.

Older Daughter lifted up Frumpkin so the two species could see each other more clearly.

And that's as far as that got, for obvious reasons.

Now regarding Frumpkin as the Mighty Hunter, here's a funny story.

Early one morning when it was still dark, Older Daughter got out of bed to use the bathroom. But she stepped in something wet and squishy, not a pleasant experience in the dark. Her first thought was, "Oh great. Frumpkin upchucked."

She turned on the light and found the cat had indeed upchucked. But to her distress, the vomit was full of blood. Instantly she was flooded with worry and concern about having a sick cat.

But a closer examination of the pile revealed not just blood, but a little mousy tail and a few feet as well.

Evidently Frumpkin had caught and eaten a mouse, then threw it up. But throwing it up didn't matter to Frumpkin. Older Daughter reported that he was one satisfied cat – purring, proud of himself, utterly pleased to the point of showing off the vomit pile. "See?? See!! Look what I did!"

At least we won't have to worry about a mouse infestation as long as we have the Mighty Hunter in the house.