The poacher is back

Mom has told me that there is a history of poaching in the family - if she believes her grandmother's stories about "Fanny of the Kuchalm" hiding ancestors of hers who poached in order to help bring food on the table -, but from her choice words today it didn't seem to me as if it is a tradition she would uphold herself or likes to see being upheld by others.
I'm not a poacher. I don't steal and if I hunt, it's Steiff animals - not that Mom appreciates that much - or toys.
There is an ever hungry cat in the area, though, and he won't stop at anything to feed that fat little tummy of his.

Today Mom cut up some cardboard. One of the parcels that hadn't been opened yet contained a large bag of kibbles. Imagine Mom's surprise when this is what she found.

She first saw that long cut and was actually ready to blame herself when she a. remembered that she hadn't even cut the parcel open, but tore the tape off and b. noticed the distinctive little claw marks all over.
The parcel had two holes at the sides, so you could grab it better ... or get in there with a long furry leg and try your best to open up what's inside and maybe get some of that to the outside.
Well, that did work, but unfortunately it was not food, but a few bits of the printed invoice. Mom had wondered where those bits of paper on the floor had come from, but hadn't investigated.

I tell you, my dear people, this house has turned into a house of crime and only Bast knows where this will be ending.
I want nothing to do with it. I'm not even here and you don't see me.

Mom also wants you to know that we are not affiliated with VetConcept in any way.