It had been three days since his belly had been full of warm meat. The kill
had been satisfying and he still relished ripping open the breast of the
quivering young quail. Though he wanted to rest, hunger was forcing him to forage
quite a distance from his normal hunting ground. Out here he had to work for each
kill. He could no longer just wait under the porch for unsuspecting prey, and the
humans no longer put a food dish out each morning. There had been no humans at the
house for weeks. He must have traveled thirty miles over the sage flats. The
terrain was easy but the prey was scarce. No more dishes of milk awaited him. No
more back scratches or belly rubs. Though meals were scarce, he was getting
adjusted to the new habitat and he felt his primal behavior strengthening.

There was thunder in the distance but he headed that way because he saw roof tops
far away with the promise of humans and easy living. The sage brush was getting
taller and the rabbit droppings more frequent. His spirits rose with the prospect
of encountering an unsuspecting bunny and an easy meal. The thunder was closer but
there were no clouds in the sky. His gait slowed as he ascended the steep hill.
He had learned to crest rises slowly to surprise prey. He looked over the ridge
and saw the building he was seeking. He detected no dogs and proceeded down the
slope. A tin can was sitting out in the open offering the possibility of food.
The hunger in his belly made him head for the tin can. Reaching the can he placed
a paw on top to tip it over. The last clap of thunder he would never hear. The
405 grain cast bullet from Old Elk Hunter's 458 Win Mag was already on its way.
With predictable accuracy it hit its mark and Old Elk Hunter grinned and added one
more to his crat count.

Another good day at the range.

Great story! I needed that with spring still a way off yet. ned