wings & things

Story time.  You all know that I am a huge cat person.  I think they're just dandy.  So dandy that we have three of them.  Romeo (very fat) and Holiday (very thin) are mine, while Maris has Frodo (Romeo's brother; not fat but very squishy overall).

The only thing about cats that is a little less-than-dandy is the gifts they give you.  Hairballs, mice, and the occasional lizard are common trifles, but last week our felines stepped it up a notch.

I was going outside to feed the cats like any normal morning.  They were all there, plus the stray orange cat that our family is still denying that we support.  As usual, they were all very eager to greet their food-giver.  

That's when I looked down and saw it.  Or rather, them.

Our cats had somehow managed to catch a bird, and the surprising part was that there was no bird to be found.  Only two very neatly severed wings sitting on our doormat.  

A couple of studies suggest that cats see us as big, dumb, bald felines that need to be taken care of, thus accounting for behavior such as grooming and leaving offerings at the door.  So I guess I should have been flattered.  Instead I just think our cats have a twisted sense of humor.  

Last I checked the wings are still on the porch because nobody wants to touch them.