When I was in high school, we had a cat that one-too-many times jumped up on the kitchen counter to have a taste of whatever meat my mom was thawing out. My dad took him out into the woods behind our house with a .22, and I never saw the cat again... Perhaps my tolerance for animal "meddling" is hereditary, but I wouldn't be near so calm as you! I'd have been "shooting" with something other than a camera. 
