At the garage door this morning: Not one but two wee dead baby bunnies, laid out symmetrically, paws facing each other.
Let me repeat: Baby bunnies.
And the cats will do it again. Without remorse.
Which is what the cats are supposed to do — remember we do live out in farmland, so every small rodent and lagomorph the cats get is one less in our garden or pantry. They’re supposed to be working cats as well as pets.
But come on: Baby bunnies.