This quote is from a short piece written by Jim Thompson in the 1930s:
"The paws of the other animal scooped him up and held him level with its laughing gray eyes. The mouth laughed, too, and saliva dripped from the corners. He came closer to the mouth, saw it open wider. His head passed through the opening, and he gazed down the concave hall of the throat. An instant only. Suddenly there was no light, no sound. Only something hard and sharp closing upon his neck. He felt his eyes leap from their sockets, his tongue crawl through his teeth. He felt the rush of blood from his jugular, jerked with the sudden energy of his heart. He felt. Then he felt no more."
I'm reading an excellent biography of Thompson written by Robert Polito.