Larry the cat celebrates his 10th anniversary at No. 10:
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Oh yes. Half a mouse behind the bookcase. Good luck.So, after a weary morning of dealing with dodgy plumbing (but at least we have running water; everything else can wait) and getting dishes clean in the mop sink and so on, I'm all ready to settle on the balcony with the Fortean Times that arrived today, when I spot fresh blood spatter!
The balcony is screened in, but the tops of some of them have come loose and we've been deferring a lot of maintenance during the pandemic, so a bird blundering in and discovering to its dismay that we have three cats is not unprecedented. Normally we're alerted by panicked flapping, the thunder of cat feet up and down the balcony, and kibitzing from the two not engaged with the prey. But all has been quiet, except for Freya complaining about the plumbing problems getting her floor wet, all morning. We're talking significant gore, too, all concentrated in one area, biggest blot the size of quarter, fresh and red, and a single black feather. I caught and examined all three cats, and it's not from open wounds on any of them, but Odin has some dried blood flecking his ruff, contributory evidence to the bird assumption. If they'd eaten it, there'd be more feathers scattered around, though, and I doubt they even know how to eat birds. In the past they've regarded prey as synonymous with toys.
We're a little nervous about where and when we're going to find it. Worst case scenario, it's under the bed. We have a conventional mattress in a waterbed frame, with drawers on the long sides and a space up the middle, closed with a door at one end but freely cat-accessible under the headboard, from whence they can squeeze into any drawer they like.
I ought to mop up the blood, but I'm much too tired.