Your number's up

This pigeon stopped for a brief rest on its way back from South Pembrokeshire to its home in Northern Ireland, only to fall foul of our cat Fred. 

Noticing a few feathers just inside our scullery door, I stepped outside to find Fred looking as if he wasn't sure what to do next, and the bird quivering on its back, mortally wounded. I found it a safe resting place just in case, but it didn't survive the afternoon. Then I noticed the rings on its legs, and a bit of internet searching got me to the Irish Homing Union where I was able to report the loss. Not sure now whether to give it a burial, put it out for the kites and badgers, or see if one of our sons fancies making something of it when they come home for the weekend. Meanwhile it rests peacefully in the chest freezer.

Sequel (in extra)