Nature is not always pretty.

I spotted a neighborhood cat next to my house this morning with a bird in his mouth. I assumed it was dead, but he dropped it to meow hello to me, then batted at it as it fluttered. I distracted him (he is a complete attention slut) and scooped up the bird to put it into a nearby tree.



I suspected it was a goner, but figured I'd help it out a bit. I love their song!

The cat was not terribly upset by the loss of his prey, and he certainly appeared smug about his fearsome hunting skills.



He hung around long enough to be something of a pest, and Nala (our cat) had come to the door to see where I was and saw this little tramp rubbing me up (OK, I am a bit of a kitty slut too), and a bit of through-the-door hissing ensued. Nala gave up the fight pretty quickly, and I eventually grew tired of the temptations of my suitor.



I checked on the bird an hour or so later and it was on the ground. It's attempt to fly away from me was pretty sad, so I assume it had a messed up wing. I suspect it will not last the day, but I could be wrong. And, as Josey Wales would say, "buzzards gotta eat, same as worms." Nature is not always pretty.