The Night of the Hunter

It was a mighty struggle, but at long last, the fearsome creature was taken.  Energy spent, the king of the jungle could rest to regain his strength...never knowing when the next encounter would occur.  Guts ravaged, pink ears and beady eyes staring as empty warning to any "mousies" that dared remain in his path---the night of the hunter had come at last.
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Out, out plastic serpent, for I am Cat and do not fear rubber snakes.  Even if they clash with the bed spread.
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Begone, silly whippet thing on a stick, for i have felled thee and covered you in spit and slime and the person I call "owner" doesn't want to touch it.  She is now trying to distract me with Treats.
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Oh, but this task is a burdensome one.  I am weary.  I must rest.
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Again.