My cat wasn't much for birds-- my stepfather punished her with a bell after she killed a starling-- but she was crazy about mice. She only brought them home as presents, though. She'd bring in this tidy little dead mouse and leave it on the doorstep, and watch anxiously for my reaction.
"It's not too small for you, is it? You're okay with the color? I wasn't sure about the color."
So then I'd pet her and throw it in the garbage when her back was turned.
She had this boyfriend who came over to eat her food sometimes. One time he brought her a small mole, you know, he ripped it open like a warning to others and left it in the middle of our yard.
She was so upset, thinking we'd blame her for the mess. But we knew it couldn't be she who'd killed it, because it didn't fit her M.O.
Anyway. I couldn't hack it if I had to try and live my life a heartbeat away from a cat eating a dead bird. You have guts o' steel.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Grody jody!
Date: 2004-04-23 03:21 pm (UTC)"It's not too small for you, is it? You're okay with the color? I wasn't sure about the color."
So then I'd pet her and throw it in the garbage when her back was turned.
She had this boyfriend who came over to eat her food sometimes. One time he brought her a small mole, you know, he ripped it open like a warning to others and left it in the middle of our yard.
She was so upset, thinking we'd blame her for the mess. But we knew it couldn't be she who'd killed it, because it didn't fit her M.O.
Anyway. I couldn't hack it if I had to try and live my life a heartbeat away from a cat eating a dead bird. You have guts o' steel.