My fluffy cat is a hunter. This season he has already brought me two snakes and a baby bird. He has this special yowl that he uses when he's got something. Oh, thank you very much, I say in respect of his prowess, but can we please keep it outside the house. He is OK with this, and proud of his prey.
Today, at dusk, my roommate comes to me saying that he's caught us a baby chicken.
What? This is somehow unbelievable to me. You mean like yellow and fluffy? Not quite a baby chick, but not a full grown hen either, here is this obviously domesticated bird on our back porch. It is a pale brown color and still a little downy... is it a cornish hen? I ask. Peep peep peep, it says. We put it in a beer box and my roommate scouts the block to see if it has a home. If not, we may just have our first chicken...