I just got my seemingly weekly call at the moment to deal with a bird that had been caught by our cats in the garden. The little thing was fluttering head first in the lawn, disoriented, being protected from the cat by my Dad. I picked it up and discovered it was a robin. I had a look at it and couldn’t find any external wounds bar a damp patch, probably from the cat mouthing it as she tends to do. Then as I’m wandering about impotently trying to think of a safe place to put a bird to recover from shock where the cats won’t get it, it went limp in my hand and died.
Bloody cats.
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