Thursday, July 26, 2012

A Taste for Quail

Although I was found with a baby quail in my mouth, there is NO proof that I ate said quail. This is my side of the story (and the only 'side' you'll get).

The lady glanced at me and saw two small bird feet sticking out of my mouth. I heard the words, "Oh, no!" and then a demand that I drop it. It was peeping so it was OBVIOUS I hadn't harmed it. The lady made me drop it and then it ran off. She tried to "rescue" it but it ran under some plants and then I got it in my mouth again. The lady couldn't watch, so she left.

Look, I was only playing with it. I let it go. The lady has no proof to the contrary, and there was no physical evidence linking me to anything. No blood or feathers. And, she tells me I can only kill mice and gophers and I left a gopher on the patio for her last night as a sign of good will.

If I ever develop a taste for quail, the lady will know because I will be sporting a smoking jacket and ascot, will hang out in a mahogany-lined library, and I'll be sipping single-malt scotch.

2 comments:

cattywumpus said...

What is it with the humans and the birds? They have obviously forgotten that those juicy, squeaky flying things are irresistible to cats! We don't blame you for tasting that quail, especially since you let it go after you played with it.

Katie Isabella said...

MOL MOL. xox