Ah, just another beautiful day in the Park. Flowers are blooming and a pleasant tropical storm breeze is blowing as I'm outside, sliding a freshly dead rat onto the tines of a rake, to flip her over the back fence to be food for scavengers.
Wait. What?
Yeah, it has been that sort of week. Following up on intensive barking sessions this week has led to discovery of all sorts of blood and gore. Today it was the rat, whose still-soft but definitely dead body was dragged several feet, twice, by Murray's wheels before I got everyone inside (and my camera out). A few days ago, it was Murray himself on the receiving end of the enthusiastic dogging, coming out of the bottom of a dogpile with a nick just under his eye oozing blood. It turned out to be very small and not needing attention, but it still got everyone banished to their respective corners while we all calmed down. And ever since, Elsa has licked her left wrist, but there is no visible wound nor any sign of a limp. I am keeping an eye on that one. Cats are full of spit and vinegar all of a sudden too. There are dozens of tufts of fur on my front room rug, some reddish, some grayish. I would be more upset, but I think Zoe actually pulled off one of the mats from Athena's back, things she won't let any human remove in a more precise manner. The spiders are starting to come back (the orb weavers are so tiny this time of year, but I know how this story ends), and I learned two or three nights ago that mole crickets are a thing. I just want my human to come home so I can hang out with my own species for a while. Biodiversity is a little overwhelming right now.
I will be nice and hide the gory pictures below the one I got from the Motherpark today. All the hobo kittens have marked her property as one giving free handouts of food and sometimes shelter. She knows better, but she lives dangerously. Silly hoomin.
No comments:
Post a Comment