A cat named Bob

Bob attacked a guinea early this week. Came out of nowhere (as usual). There was very little outcry, oddly enough, just a bit of scuffling which caught my eye. So I ran out and saw Bob taking out a guinea. I yelled, and it let go, then attacked a duck. I yelled again, chased it, and it finally ran away.

The guinea was bleeding everywhere and did not make it.

The next day the same thing happened. This time a muscovy duck was the target. I ran out, tried to scare Bob away, but it wouldn't have any of it. So I took off my jacket and started hitting it. Bob wouldn't budge. So I picked up a fishing net I use to catch difficult birds, and caught Bob. He still didn't let go. I finally got his attention by smacking him around a bit. The duck died even quicker than the guinea.



That second death shook the flock up a bit. Since then, they have been hovering near the coop door, skipping their bathing rituals, and making nary a peep.

We are switching to a morning playtime schedule with hopes that Bob finds something better to eat during his nighttime hunt.