WCB - The Bird butcher

Yes I know, technically the weekend is over, here in this part of the world anyway. And I did miss the deadline for the "official" WCB - so I'll have my very own, and I'll have it whenever it pleases me!

Since we had the pleasure of meeting a bunch of cats yesterday, I was going to write about the fact that I wasn't a very popular catphotographer amongst that gang, they just kept nipping their eyes closed, go away, leave me alone, get that thing out of my face, no, no, no!

But I'll save that for another day, since I have my very own trauma to write about. This is BIG news, scary news and one subject I'd never, ever thought I'd write about. Since my cats are completely wellbehaved, caring and respectful of other species. Except flies and the odd wasp that is. Posh pure-breeds. Too good for doing dirty catty deeds. Or so I thought. Until this evening.

When a bloody drama took place in my garden - the murderer of birds you can see in the pictures. Knut, the very esteemed fourlegged prime minister of Sweden (read most all about it here, only in Swedish though). He obviously thought it would be a proper achievement to add to his CV, something to boast and brag about amongst his fellow ministers. Perhaps being something that would really show his furry chest and his manly instincts.

I didn't see the actual capturing and killing - and believe you me, the whole dramatic aftermath will give me enough food for nightmares many nights to come... - it was all just a fact when completed one might say. We first thought it was a toy, he had brought with him to the garden...

Then we thought it might be a mouse, scary enough, but then M ascertained it was a tiny bird, very dead. So sad. Or well, why should a bird's life be more valuable than that of a mouse... In my world a life is a life is a life, at least when it comes to the innocent in the shape of an animal.

The death of a bird, caused by the cat known as Knut a k a known as the true ruler of the kingdom of Sweden, was a fact. Sad but true. I'm not sure what he did with the bird after he had played with the poor, dead one. Hid it in a shrub, maybe feasted on it *brrr* - no way I'd go out in the garden to find out.

Someone who doesn't spell his or her name with the letters p i a will surely have to go scavenger hunting in the garden tomorrow. Or maybe not. Because, when I went into the little boys' room to close the window I discovered the corpse of a small black bird lying on the scratching-tree.

I screamed, I ran out of the room, I closed and locked the door, I rambled, there's no way I'm going to have a good night's sleep now. No it's not always rosy living in the company of cats. Especially not those who perhaps have an ulterior motive and a political agenda.

Edit: The bird-corpse on the scratching-post turned out to be thrown up grass in the shape of a birdlike body... I e, the dead bird either lies in someone's tummy now or is hidden in the garden. I feel a bit restricted in my use of the garden now. Lawnmowing is completely out of the question... Or walking around in the grass. Or dibble in the flowerbeds. Nope, this really isn't my cup of tea...