Bloody, bloody cat

Bloody cat has killed the sunbird that has entertained me for months. He would hop about on the window above the desk where I write, admiring his reflection in the glass for hours and providing inspiration – or happy distraction – when the words wouldn’t come.

I think perhaps he felt like a different venue this morning, some place new to parade. And went too close to the ground from where horrid, horrid Moshi could launch an attack.

I knew she’d killed something for I could hear her growl. And something told me before I saw her that it would be the sunbird. I grabbed her – by the tail – as she whipped by me and prised the little bird from her jaws. Too late.

Already the sheen was disappearing from his feathers.

I wrapped him in tissue and buried him in the garden beneath the tuber roses.

I wanted to weep.

Moshi looks not in the least remorseful and is presently cleaning herself. I am going to ignore her all day.

4 Responses to “Bloody, bloody cat”

  1. Gorilla Bananas Says:

    This is upsetting news. I felt quite happy when you told us that sunbird was alive. You need some kind of seed tray for the birds which your cat couldn’t possibly get at.

  2. reluctantmemsahib Says:

    Morning GB, I know; very sad. I have got a seed tray of sorts – a bit of driftwood strung to the branches of an acacia which cats can’t get to. Thing is, whilst the mannequins and weaver birds are all safe atop thorny acacias, little sunbird was a vain fellow and hung around the windows. A tragic case of pride before fall I fear?

  3. problemchildbride Says:

    Cats are cruel hellions in the morning and by afternoon, they’re purring and benign again, dreamily pounding your lap, remembering their kittenhood. They’re baffling.

  4. Sally Worm MkII « Reluctant Memsahib Says:

    […] So I find shape to long hours in the tiniest things. I rescue a startling turquoise – and startled – kingfisher from the pool which he mistook for a tropical swamp such is its pea-greeness. He was cold and shivered and gasped so that I worried he might die. I fished him out and lay him in the sun to warm and locked that cats up so that he was safe from lurking predators. […]

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