The Mindbending Return of the Killah Cat

I finally have something to blog about!


I have 2 cats, one white 13 year old guy named George, and a huge 20 lb tabby called Baby.


Baby loves to kill birds.


He plucks tender Robins from the low nests, encouraging evolution to make the Robins build higher nests.


He kills Blue Jays whilst being dive bombed by the doomed bird's family.


He has presented me with a huge Northern Flicker on my welcome mat.


Once, when stepping out the front door, we almost squished an adult squirrel, dead, but unmarked, as if he didn't know what to do with it.


He used to howl at the door, smushing his kill against the screen door proudly, but has figured out that this doesn't evoke the reaction he wants, and he usually doesn't get let in until the next morning. Now, he brings it to the porch and plays with it, then carries it away to tear it apart.


Our porch always has feathers, streaks of blood, stray organs or a bird's foot, some voodoo magik.


So, Friday night I was shocked to find this:

I almost screamed.

This is a parrot, people.

I will remind you that I do not live in a parrot friendly climate.

My husband had heard mysterious screeching/squawking noises behind our alley somewhere on the previous evening, but couldn't tell what kind of animal it was.

My worst fear was that he would someday kill a cardinal, and that I would hate him forever, but I never imagined he would get a Conure!

I feel really bad because these are smart, fun birds.

They are also expensive.

We've been looking out for any lost posters around the 'hood, but nothing so far...