Only the other night, Mr. Waffle was expressing the mildest affection for the cat. Of course, that just invited what follows.
Shortly thereafter I was dropping the babysitter, M, home. “How was it?” I asked. “Fine,” she replied, “there was just one thing.” Apparently, as the Princess was playing Club Penguin, the cat came into the room with a pigeon clutched between her jaws. M saw the cat playing with something but didn’t notice what until feathers began to float around the room. With great self-possession, M did not squeal, as I would certainly have done. She left the Princess playing Club Penguin and unaware of the drama and, to the cat’s consternation, picked up the bird with a cloth (note to self – where is that cloth?) and chucked it out the back door. The cat followed and continued to play with the corpse outside. M was force to put the dead pigeon in the bin in a plastic bag. Apparently, it was a fully grown pigeon. Since Hodge is not a fully grown cat, I do wonder whether she would be able to bring down a big pigeon. I can’t help fearing that she found a dead pigeon somewhere and this is not going to be good for her health or ours.
The following morning when I came downstairs, Mr. Waffle had thrown the sofa cover in the wash. Apparently the cat had coughed up a hair/feather ball on it. Lovely. When I left for work the cat was lying on the Princess’s bed enjoying the morning sunshine looking like pigeon wouldn’t melt in her mouth.
