There are mockingbird feathers strewn across my front yard. No mockingbird. I assume he is being quietly digested in some cat's stomach. Probably White Cat. She was stalking in my back yard yesterday.
Not that there is a great shortage of mockingbirds around my house. Not that I haven't threatened them with the feline horde from time to time. I dislike being dive bombed in my own yard. Agressive little things they are.
One of the many reasons I don't let my cats out is because I feed the birds and squirrels (and raccoons, possums, mice, rats, bunnies and whatever else creeps in from the marsh). I don't think it is fair to the creatures to set them up for ambush.
That and vague feelings of guilt over Harper Lee's admonishment that "to kill a mockingbird is a sin" because all they do is sing songs for us.
I'd thought the wildlife was relatively safe because White Cat stands out pretty well and anything would see her about a mile away. But I guess she gets lucky occasionally. I hate to stop feeding with winter coming on, so I guess I'll have to just allow nature to take its course.
Hunting Loki and Thor style.