"I need your help!!!"
"Dudo caught a bird on the terrace! He's on my rug! I can't get it out of his mouth."
What the hell could San Geraldo be thinking?!? He wants me to do something about a cat with a bird in his mouth? My mother is the frickin' Dowager Duchess! (Sorry, Mom, but that's how it ran through my head.)
I grab an old hand towel from the laundry room and head to San Geraldo's bedroom. Dudo runs out between my legs — bird in mouth. I try to grab him and he growls at me before running under the dining room table. He actually growls at me!
Dudo then runs back into San Geraldo's room. I follow. He jumps up on the bed, where he crouches facing me — bird still in mouth.
I tap on the bed directly in front of him and command, "Dudo, drop the bird!"
He does. I wasn't expecting that!
The bird is very clearly dead. I quickly grab it up in the towel. San Geraldo is ready with a plastic bag. I shove both towel and bird in bag. Then I go all over the house with spray cleaner and paper towels and pick up bird feathers. Dudo follows along faithfully — at first, licking his chops!. He's beside himself with joy. I have a hard time looking at him for the rest of the night.
I thought Dudo would be angry with me, but he's even more attentive now. Maybe he sees me as his accomplice. Maybe he thinks he caught the bird and I ate it.
He woke me this morning at 7:00 to play with him. He brought strings (formerly mice) onto the bed and we played for a half hour. I usually don't give into him like that, but now that I know he's a cold-blooded killer, I'm thinking it might be better to do what he says. Also, I figure as long as we play with fake prey, he won't be out catching the real thing. But maybe I'm just helping him perfect his murderous skills.
|"PLAY WITH ME AND NO ONE ELSE GETS HURT."|