ewt | in which Buttons attempts to teach me to hunt

My morning pre-breakfast reading of LJ was interrupted by a bird shrieking, loudly, in the house.

It didn't take long to find out that the shrieking was the bird that Buttons had brought in from outside; poor thing was still alive and Buttons was bringing it to me.

Maybe he and Neil think I just don't like rodents?

I shouted at him not to bring it upstairs (because, yeah, giving commands to a cat always works), then shamefully went and hid in the bedroom for a minute or two.

I'll have to wipe up the blood from the front hallway. I've followed some drips and found where Buttons hid the bird, as well, and it shouldn't be too difficult to move the chair to get at the carcass, but I am going to wait until

pfy is awake to deal with it; it looks like a "you hold the newspaper, and I'll move the shovel" sort of job. The bird is some sort of thrush, I think, it's hard to tell in its current position. I'm glad it isn't one of the woodpigeons.

I probably can't let the dog inside until I've cleaned up the dead bird.

In the meantime Buttons is prancing about the house with feathers stuck on his paws looking VERY smug.

Not much to be done about this, really. Last year Buttons defended us from all sorts of things (as described in this comment), this year he seems to have moved on to chasing things that actually move. And if some of the birds suffer, at least the rats and mice don't stand a chance, and that's a GOOD thing with all the feed around (although it is generally in well-sealed containers blah blah blah).

I can kindof understand why the escaped rabbit doesn't want to come home, you know? Never mind; time to do other animal chores and fix myself some breakfast.