Ooo!  Ooooo!  I had a kitty like that!  :)  My
first cat... we called him Socks for the obvious
reason that he had white paws, and I was too young
to be creative.  Seventeen pounds of solid muscle,
and everything in the neighborhood feared him.  He
used to bring home trophies and leave 'em by the
back door.  Bird heads, assorted vermin innards,
entire dead shrews (we never could figure out why,
but shrews were the one thing he wouldn't eat),
and occasionally even bigger stuff.  We worked out
the identity of most of them pretty quickly -- the
entire flying squirrel was fairly easy to ID,
particularly since it happened to be still quite
healthy and took off under the furniture the
instant its captor opened his mouth -- but one
fuzzy relic left us perplexed for days.  Turned
out to be the tip off a German Shepherd's tail,
which explained why Socks came home in such
terrible shape and needed to go back to the vet a
few days later to have an abcess treated.  Heh.

Anyway, I point out his reign of terror only as
counterpoint to how he acted INSIDE the house --
which is to say, like a cuddly bundle of love. 
He'd follow us around like a puppy, curl up in any
available lap, and sleep on my legs at night.  He
begged for table scraps.  He'd wrestle with your
hand for hours if you'd let him.  And he put up
with a lot of having his fur petted backwards
because I thought he looked funny all ruffled up.
 (Yah, I was a kid.  Sue me.)

I love the boys I have now, and I wouldn't trade
them for the world.  I also would never have an
outdoor cat again, both because of the danger they
pose to the environment and the danger the
environment poses to them.  But with that said, I
don't think I will ever again have a cat quite as
perfect as that one.  He was my best bud.  And
yeah, he was hell on bluejays.

Combing my collection for a cel to represent him,
I think I'll have to settle on this one.  *grin* 
Soft and cute, but with teeth...