Joey and I found the evidence out back this afternoon. A bunch of feathers splayed out on a patch of my back yard, a bloody wishbone about a foot northeast of the feathers, and a bright red organ of some kind in between and a little to the southwest, forming three points of a triangle.
Joey spotted the bones first. "What's that?" he asked me.
Then I saw the feathers. "I bet that cat got a pigeon!"
"Oh, yeah!" He spotted the organ. "Is that the heart?"
"I don't know. I don't know what a pigeon heart looks like. Don't touch it--use a stick."
"I know that," he said, in that teenage "don't call me stupid" kind of voice. There was a long metal rod lying around and he poked at it with that. "Why didn't the cat eat it?"
"Good question," I said. "I don't know why not. I eat chicken hearts."
Joey was pretty intent on hypothesizing how the cat got the pigeon. "He must have jumped from here, see..." I think he was speculating that the cat first got some feathers, then wrestled the bird down and ate most of it in the bone area. I don't know if he had a guess as to how the heart or whatever organ got to point three. There wasn't very much of the pigeon left, so I wonder if the cat carried most of the carcass away and the heart or whatever fell out.
Hmmm.. we're Crime Scene Investigaation: Veterinary today. It was a nice break in a long writing day.
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