Forgive Us Our Trespasses

Came home from picking my kid up after spending 2 nights of glut and debauchery at my dad's house. How I missed the squirrel when I left is beyond me. Dead as a doornail, as they say. Straight ahead was a dead bird. The bird was right next to my porch, almost on my neighbor's property and the squirrel was completely on my neighbor's lawn. Not sure if Max thinks I'm fat enough as it is and don't need anymore food or if he thinks the neighbors are too skinny and need all the help they can get.

                                      The bird had obviously been dead for quite some time.

                          Rigor mortis had not yet set in. This guy trespassed on the wrong lawn.

Shades of Gray

This is what happens when I don't get out of the car fast enough. Or pull away from the curb fast enough. My neighbors complain because he lays down on top of everyones' cars so they can't drive away.

The Damage Done

Got home from work today and what do I see in my flower bed? Max. Butchering a butterfly. As if the racing pigeon on Saturday wasn't enough! The body of the butterfly was about the width of my thumb. It was no tiny winged thing he was attacking. Tommy was of course freaking out, but it was because he was afraid of the butterfly, not sad that Max was destroying it. By the time I was able to intervene the wings were tattered almost off completely and it was barely fighting anymore.

                             Its wing span was probably 2-3 inches before Max got a hold of it.

Mercy

I stupidly did not take a picture of this bird.

After a looooong morning spent in Westminster (long because we were gone all morning AND because my kid carried on like a jerk the entire drive home) I came home to find my cat stalking a pigeon on my neighbor's porch. The bird was hurt and couldn't fly. And there were feathers everywhere. My neighbors' solution was to throw bread on the lawn to get the bird to go away. SMH. My kid thought this was the greatest thing ever until he realized Max was attacking it. Upon further inspection I noticed that the bird had a band on it's leg. GREEEEAAATTTTTT. He has to kill a bird that someone owns?? I corralled my kid and Max into the house and got to work catching the bird. Should've been no problem, however I am afraid of horses and birds so I was more than a little freaked out. Some years ago I worked with a guy who owned racing pigeons and one wound up at work. He picked it up and showed all of us there how tame they are and explained that it was probably tired which explained why it was meek as could be while being handled. I had imagined that's how it would go when I picked that bird up. False. Tommy snuck out of the house and Max snuck out right behind him. Just as I bent down to pick the bird up Max pounced on the bird and it started flapping around. I nearly had a heart attack. After much more ado I was able to capture the bird and put it in an empty diaper box. I drove it out to Phoenix Wildlife Center and it turned out Max didn't hurt the bird, he was only torturing it (lovely). The bird wound up with a broken wing and couldn't fly. Max just knows how to kick a bird when it's down. Kathleen assured me the bird would make a full recovery.