|Ducky scared up this grouse from the long grass along the road|
A while ago I was disgusted by the dogs killing a kitten.
This morning I’m disgusted by the mother cat bringing a fledgling bird—maybe a robin—still alive for her kittens to play with, kill and eat.
At first I thought she’d caught a very large mouse or maybe a rat and said to her, “Good for you.” Then I got a closer look. My first urge was to rescue the bird (not that I’d know what nest to return it to, or anything else, and perhaps it was already near death) and took a step toward it. Immediately a kitten grabbed it and scooted behind some boards. I gave up and left the tractor shed, downhearted.
I know this killing of the innocent is natural, but this is part of nature that does not please me. Not that it bothers me one bit when the cats kill mice; on the contrary, I hope they’ll kill many. But birds . . . I consider my friends.
|Have to admit, my walks are rather glorious ... a mile cross-country from our place is the old Rosebud Hall, still used for dances and parties and reunions, and they have a horseshoe tournament on the grounds every year|