Bird food

The feathered girlies were squawking and on closer inspection, I found them fighting over a dead mouse. Nice. Bird food.

Then (because I’m back-blipping) at nighttime, we had a fox attack. The dogs barked up a storm in the small hours and the fat fox ran off empty-mouthed, with a trail of feathers and a clear scene of the crime. No bird food then.

We describe foxes as cunning, but our local hunters don’t seem to be that efficient. The birds put up such a fight and I’m proud of them. The one who escaped by a feather, ran towards me at a time I was locking and re-barricading. I thought she was lost but all she’d lost was a cushion full of plumage - she was otherwise unharmed. Plucky birds I say. :-)