The Catfather?

This morning, the Lovely Mrs. Shoehead woke up to a scene reminiscent of The Godfather’s hapless movie producer Woltz waking up with the head of his prized Arabian horse Khartoum’s bloody severed head nestled in his bed. As she was waking up, she noticed a strange little lumpy thing underneath her. As she pulled back the blankets, there was revealed… a dead mouse! Flattened, and staining the sheets with its life blood and other vital fluids, the small rodent was apparently a gift offered in tribute by one of our ever-increasing number of cats that have taken up residence at Casa Shoehead.
The feline presence in my domicile began with Starva, the matriarch of the clan. She enjoyed a peaceful and solitary existence for many years, until June, 2006 and the arrival of Missy Cleopatra. Missy was in a cage at our vet’s office for about two days with an “adopt me’ sign on the outside of the cage. The story on the sign told how she was found by one of the vet’s staff in a pillowcase in an apartment dumpster! She was such a cute little black furball, just climbing and playing around in her cage, we just had to take her home with us. At first, there was friction between Starva, and the young upstart Missy, but soon things were worked out into a sort of détente. About a year later, in the summer of 2007, a couple of alley cats started coming around our outside staircase crying for food. One of them had an injured tail, and he was the most affectionate of the alley cats. Soon, he showed up daily and I made sure he got a good meal, and sometimes some milk! When the decision was made to move out of Oxnard in November 2007, Mrs. Shoehead and I felt that we just couldn’t leave “Cat-tail” (as he was now called), behind to take his chances with the increasingly dangerous neighborhood. Yippee! Cat #3! There was still plenty of room at the new house, as well as a spacious yard so that all three cats (plus two dogs) could co-habitate, although to Starva’s chagrin.
A few short weeks later, at a Christmas trip to her auntie’s house, the Lovely Mrs. Shoehead noticed another little kitten, a grey tiger-striped cat, hanging around the front doorstep, unheeded and un-cared for. Naturally, as animal lovers, we felt obligated to take this on in, too. We kept him in the same room as Cat-tail, segregated from the other cats until they could all get acclimated to one another. Buster, as the new addition came to be called, and Cat-tail got along great. The older, seasoned alley cat, took the young cat under his protection, almost like a little brother. He still to this day hangs out with Buster and protects him from the dogs. Our first attempt at integrating the newer boy cats to the established girl cats resulted in buster scampering under the house, and deciding to take up permanent residence there. He comes out from his hole every morning at seven am and every night around 10 pm for his feeding, under the watchful eye of his big brother, Cat-tail.
This was pretty much how it went on through most of 2008, but one day in mid-August, I went out to feed Buster, and there was a tan tiger-striped cat, even smaller than Buster! Crying, hungry and scared, I fed him—wondering if he was here to stay, or just passing through. (Many neighborhood cats jump over our fence and visit Casa Shoehead. We must be a hot-spot in the cat circuit!) As he basically never left, and hung around our back porch for the next couple of days, we decided to take him in and clean him up a little bit. He was covered with fleas, and had ear-mites, so we took care of that, and we helped him to get nourished, too. He’s recovering nicely, and as it turns out he’s got a great personality—very playful and loving. Our Italian Greyhound, Bocce, took an instant like to him. Bocce kisses him and tries to play with him as often as he can, and the kitten’s not scared in the least. Last week, Mrs. Shoehead named him Vanilla Bean, or Beanie for short. So, cat #5 has arrived!
So, in regards to this morning’s incident with the poor little mouse, we’re trying to determine which cat was the culprit. Was it an offer of tribute from Missy Cleopatra, who’s trying to retain her position with her human overlords as #2 cat in the household? Or was it Cat-tail, trying to exert his influence with the humans and move up in household rank? A long-shot says it was Starva, trying to prove she’s still a viable force in the cat organization. Unlikely, but still an option. Ruled out are Buster, who almost never comes in the house any more, and Bean, who’s still under quarantine in what’s now the “cat room”. If the cats could talk, it would make the investigation much easier, but as it is, it may never be solved. Meanwhile Mrs. Shoehead is still highly freaked out.