When cat owners talk about their cats, they often tell stories about opening the door to find a "present" on the mat of a half-eaten dead bird or mouse, proudly displayed as evidence of the cat's successful night of hunting.
We don't have cats, but this morning I opened the back door to find a present on the doormat:
We don't have cats, but we do have squirrels. Currently, our main visitor is a young all-black male I call Little Blackie, after the pony in True Grit. LB visits daily to take our walnut offerings, and is diligent about chasing away any interlopers who might come by. I watched a wonderful aerial chase yesterday morning, when LB leapt after a grey who fled through the trees and upside-down along a thin telephone line.
Anyway, it's guava season now, though the harvest is sparse and small, not the bounty we get most years. (Note to self: turns out guava trees actually need watering in drought years.)
Squirrels don't normally like any sort of fruit very much, or at least our spoiled eastern greys don't. But occasionally in October one will develop a taste for guava, and we'll find a few scraped-out guavas lying near the tree each day.
This is the first time we've found a dead guava left as a present on
the mat, though.
[ 11:09 Oct 24, 2013 More humor | permalink to this entry | comments ]