You know spring is right around the corner when March flowers and crocuses start poking through the ground and Bootsie Satan has killed his first bluebird.
That dratted cat that my husband Bud hates and I tolerate did it again – picked out the brightest bird he could find and wasted it.
He didn’t bother to eat it. Just left it in the yard as an offering for me to fret about. He is too arrogant to pick up on my displeasure.
He was neutered and de-clawed several years ago and counseled on several occasions.
I’ve even bargained with him.