Our cats are indoor cats and with the exception of Sybil, none of them have ever lived outside. When we adopted Sybil we discovered that she had been an indoor/outdoor cat, whatever that means. In any case, because our cats have led sheltered lives, their hunting instincts have been somewhat muted. Sybil is, presumably because of her early experiences, is the exception.
Living in the house, Sybil has had limited opportunities to hunt and I had never really thought about it until last night. Lately I had noticed that some dead bugs were turning up on tables, but hadn't given it much thought. After all, bugs can die on tables. But last night Sybil did what hunting cats do. She presented me with her prey and her prey was still alive. In this case the prey was an ant. Not much but getting an ant in my lap was a bit of a surprise and not a welcome one. The fact that she was able to pick up such as small creature and deposit it, alive, on my lap, was testimony to her skill. My lack of appreciation was probably galling to her. My shock was genuine and perhaps out of proportion. Screaming and jumping up when seeing an ant in your lap is overreaction in the extreme. On the other hand, I do tend to overreact to insect life. Peter killed the ant, Sybil ran off. Peace was restored. I continued to watch Miss Marple.