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Mittens crunched down on the Death Moth, its wings fluttering and going still between her teeth. We watched the moth—harbinger of all evil and an Ill omen upon the village. Mittens chewed and crunched and tore and soon the omen was gone.
“What does it mean?” asked the cat’s owner. “The Death Moth is the greatest evil. It destroys our crops, foretells war and famine.”
“He has done this before?” I asked.
The owner nodded and looked with wonder at his pet.
Mittens meowed up at me and I scratched behind his ears. “It means we need more cats.”