One of my cats decided to leave a trophy on my front porch today. A dead mouse. He was sitting right next to it, waiting for me to step outside. As I did step out, he proudly puffed out his chest, as if to say, “Here is a token of my love for you, master, now you can have a delicious meal tonight. Just pop the sod on the grill and slather on a heaping helping of your favorite barbecue sauce on it.”
I walked to the shovel, found a patch of dirt, dug a hole, put the mouse on the shovel, and buried the poor critter. When I came back to the porch, the cat who killed it and offered it as a trophy huffed indignantly. So I grabbed the pizza box with leftover pizzas in it, and ate it in front of him.
Hopefully he got the message, and will attack the pizza delivery guy next time, and I could get a free meal proper for a 26-year old master.