Pigeon down

As I sat down to my lunchtime salad, a trail of fluffy grey feathers caught my eye through the patio doors. There, up the side of the house, was Flad, halfway through devouring a pigeon. I fear Open Heart Surgery has not survived his latest operation. If the sad, bloody corpse with its limp neck and closed eyes does turn out to be that of OHS, I shall bury the remains with full honours and post a picture of his grave. But I shall spare all tender-hearted readers a photo from the murder scene. It really is to bloody and brutal to behold and that cat will not be welcome on my lap tonight.