The (AKA) Cooper's Hawk was back yesterday nailing a dove feeding on the ground in front of the kitchen window. When I stepped out the porch door it fled with it's prize. Thankfully our cat is way too much for that small hawk. Hamlet is 18 pounds of bushy, long-haired Maine coon cat with a rear end as big as a German shepard's. He should be safe. But I wonder about the small stray car that I have not seen lately.
When I mentioned that hawks LOVE cardinals, Patricia vowed to shoot the damn thing the next time it showed up. The fact that it is illegal to shoot them anywhere and doubly illegal to shoot them inside the city limits was irrelevant! Also irrelevant is her usual position that all guns should be tossed in the middle of the ocean. That aside, there was my father's penchant for shooting undesirable animals on this property. Before the houses were constructed behind us, he would shoot any groundhogs in the back yard. That was relatively harmless. It did take YEARS, however, for the smell to go away after he shot a racoon in the attic... NO, he didn't remove it. You could periodically smell something bad in one bedroom for years after we moved in. Thankfully that problem is no longer with us!
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Although I am not Mr. T.--although I did spend a considerable portion of my Friday night hours as a tweener arguing with Colin about who got to "be" Mad-Dog Murdoch for "tonight's" episode--I pity the fool bird that picks up ol' G.S.B. [that's German Shepherd Butt].
Right up until Condors move to Central Ohio. Then again (Colin), every "Greebo" has his "You."
m.
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