I am writing this while my cat, Roscoe, is taking a nap.
We have a precarious relationship. Although I’ve been providing him with food on a daily basis for ten years — out of my own pocket — I still feel like I have to tiptoe around him. When he’s not napping.
It’s not easy living in the same house as a carnivore built for murder… and reportedly willing to eat almost anything that he can fit in his mouth.
This fact was scientifically validated recently, according to Celia Ford, writing in the magazine, WIRED. Ms. Ford cited evidence from Auburn University ecologist Christopher Lepczyk, revealing that there’s shockingly little that a cat won’t eat. As long as the prospective meal makes at least an attempt to get away.
From the article:
Compiling evidence from a century of research from across the globe, Lepczyk’s team identified over 2,000 animal species eaten by cats — and that’s only what scientists have recorded so far. Of those species, 347 are at risk of extinction, and 11 have since been listed as extinct in the wild (or for good).
Scientists have known for ages that feline predation is an ecological nightmare, but “it’s a challenging problem that we still have yet to deal with,” says Peter Marra, dean of the Earth Commons Institute and biology professor at Georgetown University, who was not involved in this study.
I was likewise not involved in the study, but I have noted the various and sundry dead animals — or parts of animals — that Roscoe has left on the welcome mat on my front porch. Not a definite list, but the lifeless, partially or completely consumed, victims have included chipmunks, mice, voles, lizards, baby rabbits, spiders, grasshoppers, and birds of various colors, shapes and sizes.
Not 2,000 animal species, but darn close to it.
Some cat owners believe their pet to be, in the words of Ms. Ford, “a sweet, perfect angel baby.” Don’t be fooled. When they are out of your sight, they are cold-blooded killers.
I know for a fact, if I stood 4 inches tall instead of 5 foot 9, I would have been eaten, long ago, by my cat.
Ms. Ford writes:
Since they were domesticated in the Middle East nearly 10,000 years ago, cats have traveled pretty much everywhere humans have. To thrive in so many different environments, felines became opportunists. While some animals, like pandas and koalas, stick to a limited menu of specific foods, “cats are not diet specialists,” says Marra. “They’re just trying to make ends meet.”
There are a couple of problems with that statement, scientifically speaking. Although we have some evidence — thanks to Christopher Lepczyk and his team, who looked at hundreds of scientific documents, doctoral dissertations, government reports and magazine articles from around the world — that cats will kill and eat almost anything that moves, we really have no evidence that cats “became opportunists”. Very likely, they were opportunists from the git-go.
All these theories about evolution fail to hold water, when you really examine them.
The second problem is assuming that “they’re just trying to make ends meet.” Wrong. My cat Roscoe isn’t trying to make ends meet; he’s amusing himself by attacking moving objects, for the pure fun of it. He will attack a moving piece of string, given the opportunity.
I challenge the evolutionists to explain how a cat would evolve to attack a piece of string.
From Ms. Ford:
With millions of predatory felines roaming around, both feral and domestic, “their need for food causes enormous harm to the environment,” Marra says.
(Their “need for amusement” is more like it.)
The notion that outdoor cats wreak havoc on bird populations has simmered in the back of pet owners’ minds for years, and the scientific evidence linking cats to bird deaths is incriminating.
“Incriminating”. Now there’s a scientific understatement if I’ve ever heard one.
According to Elizabeth Gow, a research scientist with Environment and Climate Change Canada, other facts of urban development, like light pollution and habitat loss, are already decimating bird populations. “Birds really can’t afford to have more things hurt them — especially things that we can control,” says Ms. Gow. “Cats are something that we can partly control.”
Obviously, Ms. Gow does not own a cat, if she believes we can partly control them.