Kitty is an old man of a cat, now some 19 years old.  But, amazingly, he's still spry and even hunting.  Just this morning, he left a gift for me at the front door, a poor little chipmunk who met his maker in Kitty's jaws.  
Sometimes I look out the front window after breakfast and notice Kitty patrolling the perimeter of the grass, on the edge of the woods, with his alert hunting posture, ears up and moving cautiously.  His name is Mr. Darling, but Mr. Darling is not gentle, he is a fierce little predator.