Getting ready to go to work this morning. Not running late yet, but getting close. The last thing that I typically do is take Murphy out for a short walk up and down the block to let him take care of his "dog business" before I leave him in the Lair for the day.
This morning, I take put his leash on him, open the door and begin to take him out. Suddenly he lunges and grabs something and I hear the snarl and he shakes whatever he has. As I pull him back, he throws it down and I see that he'd caught one of the lastest batch of feral kittens that one of my neighbor's feral cats littered next to my house. It had been right outside the door and Murphy was on it before I ever saw it. In less than a second, he'd broken the kitten's back but not finished it off and now I had to deal with it before I could leave for work.
Thanks, asshole dog.
I put Murphy back in the house and went upstairs to get a .22. I'd noticed when Murphy hit the kitten that it's mother had been standing just a few feet away just watching. At no time did she ever step forward to challenge Murphy's attack on her baby, and when I came back outside a moment later, she was nowhere to be seen, apparently having abandoned her baby without looking back. Cold. Not many other species would be that callous, I'm thinking. The kitten was crying loudly for it's mother but she never returned for it. I did what I had to do and then went and got a shovel to bury it, once again cursing my idiot neighbors for not controlling their damned cats.
As for Murphy, he just wanted to get on with his walkies. Circle of life goes on around.
And I made it in the door at work with 14 seconds to spare, earning one of "those" looks from da boss.
So how is any of the my fault, exactly? Did you want that cat or something?