The Incompetence and Casual Cruelty of Fritz LeChat

A very large moth that flew in a couple days ago re-emerged today. I held Fritz like a gun (like a laser cat, if you've seen the SNL digital shorts) and went hunting for the moth. Fritz, despite his heightened feline senses, could not see the moth when it wasn't moving. When it was flying, he went crazy leaping into the air and chirruping after it. When he couldn't see the moth anymore, he sniffed, looked around, and meowed after it--"where have you gone? can't you hear me meowing for you?" It was cute and funny to watch him being incompetent hunting the moth, but as Fritz started winning, it became kind of sad. The moth was a real survivor. He got it in his mouth maybe half a dozen times and it always managed to fly out, even the time when he carried it across the apartment in triumph (when he reached his arbitrary destination, he opened his mouth and of course it escaped). Eventually, Fritz wore it down and it couldn't fly anymore, but it took about 20 minutes for him to deliver the coup de grace. He simply could not manage to chew it enough to prevent it from creeping out. I felt so sorry for the moth. Can they feel pain? Fritz kept giving up, looking around, meowing at me, putting his fluffy head down, and then returning to the moth. I don't know where it is now or if he did eventually eat it, but I do regret that this fun activity turned sour; I thought he would give it a quick death. Maybe I'm trying to disavow agency for the moth's suffering...

I prefer winter to summer. It's tooooo hot. Even when it's cool outside, it's hot in my apartment. Rargh!