My uncle had a cat whom had been separated from its mother very young (I don't know how this occurred). It wasn't overly well socialized, and so would mostly approach things slowly and watch them in a very disapproving manner (his idea of fun was shoving himself into a box entirely too small for him and scowling at the world. He wouldn't pounce on strings, just bat at them). He never really encountered many prey animals as they'd lived in an apartment, so outside was a pretty big experience when he finally started to learn about it. He wasn't particularly good at it, but he did eventually develop some sort of vendetta with leaves and would randomly trot after one as it blew across the yard. Can't say he ever caught one, but he was as determined as he'd ever been
Haha sadly he's passed on a few years ago, but he was definitely a character. I don't think he really knew how to BE a cat. So anytime he was around my cats he'd watch and follow them with such an intensity (and a scowl because unless he was laying upside down in the grass that was his one and only facial expression). Sadly this used to get on the nerves of my female cat relatively quickly so she'd hiss at him and walk away
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