Predator dispatched

I awakened at the hundredth crow of Goober, and the two hundredth of Albert, both sounding like they were directly under my window. I had put a pillow over my head at 0430, when they began their catterwalling. Now, at 0630, the alarm could not penetrate what the crowing could. I mumbled to the bathroom to begin the prep for another day. I always look out my second story window first thing.

A nasty, big, scruffy, diseased-looking Tom cat was in the yard, stalking our carefully tended quail. (Li'l Peep was the size of a quail...) He moved like silk in the early morning fog, tail twitching above prominent testicals. He stalked the nervous little birds, who shifted and darted, seeking sanctuary.

Before he could pounce on another beloved animal, he was shot. Killed. Dead. Seriously fatally injured. Laid low by a 12 gauge.

Lesson for animals: 'do not fuck with our animals. Predators not welcome. Seek mousies and canned tender niblets elsewhere'. Lesson for cat owners: 'Keep Fluffy Balls home, neuter him, or don't drop him off at my farm. Farm life is a bitch for unwelcome animals'.

R.I.P., Li'l Peep.