This morning, while hanging out in our bedroom, we heard our cat, Marzipan, crash in through the pet door. Nothing strange here, this is her normal routine. She sleeps in our bed most of the night, goes to play early in the morning, then comes back home in time to wake me up. This usually comes with a pathetic cry, most likely for her breakfast, but I have decided she is asking where I am.
This morning, her entry did not come with the standard greeting. Instead Steve and I hear her crashing around in the kitchen. I got up to investigate, mainly to make sure she hadn't gotten into last night's dinner dishes.
When I walked into the kitchen I was greeted with an explosion of feathers.
"STEPHEN! Come see what Marzi is doing."
Our cat caught a bird. a LIVE bird. Which she was proceeding to beat to death in our kitchen.
We quickly helped the bird outside and locked Marzipan inside.
How I miss the days when she thought caterpillars were honorable presents.
Stephen, helped me look on the bright side of this exciting morning.
"At least she didn't bring it to us in bed."