Yesterday our charming feline resident left a beheaded gift on our sunlounge rug. Some poor vole family is now without a parent. To be fair she was noticeably on the prowl for the last few days, crouching near the cluster of tiny holes in the river bank.
We were out at the time and came home to find J shielding his eyes away from the offending item whilst trying to watch cricket on TV. As soon as we were through the door he shouted, 'Dad, Dad, I need you, Mollie's done something terrible!' Aw, he always was very concerned about animal welfare and still gets upset if you kill a spider!
In the unlikely event of any small furry creature deciding to bravely walk in through the open cat flap M has installed a new one with a door. Early trial runs with the cat did not go well; she tapped on our front door to be let in but she later got the hang of it when there was fishy food on offer. Not stupid.
This morning she seems to be having a day off after her hunting conquest. The back of the sofa, a patch of sun, dreams of... beheading more voles. Dogs are less gruesome.