On the Internet, nobody can tell you’re a cat.
Jake has failed at bird hunting this morning and gone to sleep in a corner behind a chair.
A cat would be cool, but I think of myself as sort of a were-badger.
Belle apparently had a successful hunt last night. Two fresh mouse-looking gut piles outside the door leading out to the deck.
Almost stepped on a fresh back-half of a mouse taking the garbage out this AM.
How she hasn’t managed to bring down the bunny who built a hutch under my back shed is probably an oversight on her part.
Or, Monty Python bunny rules supreme... One of the two.