Then I heard the peculiar kitty-scrabble-sound a cat makes when it is holding on to something with its front paws and kicking ecstatically at it with the back ones. This made me look up...
There, in the hall, was an impressive collection of feathers...
I followed the trail to the front room to find Miaowrini clutching a small bird, rolling over and over with it in her paws... a sort of kitty-crocodile-death-roll. I retrieved the still-warm bird, which had died of fright, I think, as there were no obvious injuries, and cleared away the feathers.
Naturally, my first instinct was to update the Kitty Kill Count. After all, hunting trophies have been scarce since we moved to Margate. I blame the seagulls...
3 comments:
No seagulls caught yet then?
Thankfully not...
My tame bird expert suggests it might be a reed bunting.
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