Mom and Dad moved the furry beasts' crate into the living room for July 4 so they would feel better about the fireworks. The four of them also went to the dog park on July 4th evening because the dog park is inside city limits where no fireworks are allowed. While they were at the dog park, Mom found a feather on the ground and picked it up to bring home for me. (I have her well trained.)
When the furry beast cage is in the living room, I like to sleep on top of it and so that's where Mom found me and started helping me hunt the feather.
First I rolled over and grabbed the feather as it tried to attack my tummy.
Then I deployed my claws and decided to get serious about taking down the feather.
I got a taste of the feather and it was good.
I was very intent on getting the feather.
Alas! The feather was on the ground!
I delivered one final blow and the feather was dead.
Feather hunting is great fun. I wonder if I should mount the feather on the wall of my room like my Texas grandpa does when he hunts?
Meow,
Wilbur