The Mighty Hunter

First of all let me warn you. This post contains graphic images, so if you tend to queasiness, hysterical outbursts or uncontrollable sob attacks, you should tread carefully now.
I usually recommend the old "looking through your fingers with your head slightly turned away from the screen" approach.

Meet Stevie. Quite a handsome dude with his big eyes. Don't let that fool you. He may look like the kind and sweet guy next door, but Stevie has a talent that I can only admire. A manly talent. An archaic talent. It makes me want to beat my chest and howl to the moon together with him. Too bad I am neither a gorilla nor a wolf (although Mom says that in my younger days I used to howl to the moon a few times ... I can't remember that, must have been my werecat phase).

Stevie is a hunter. I can see you looking each other, thinking that isn't unusual for a feline. Stevie isn't an ordinary hunter, though. The game he keeps taking on day after day after day is much more dangerous than a little mouse or even a rat.
He's facing certain death every day, but never stops in his efforts to keep his people and his cat pals safe.
Let the pictures speak for themselves.

"I've got its tail!!!"

"You can come closer now, it's dead alright."

"Gotcha!!"

The fiendish enemy - beaten.

"They get bigger every day, but I won't let that stop me!"

Last breath

Another one bites the dust

"You only got what you deserved, but you did put up a good fight."

Ready for the taxidermist