We went out yesterday morning, and as usual wanted to leave Whisper inside where he would be safe.  Whisper had other ideas.  He had found a freshly killed pigeon (Felix is the hunter) and Whisper claimed it for his own.  Biscuit and Cookie just stood back as Whisper got to grips with the pigeon.  It was bigger than him, but that didn’t deter him.  He was pulling the feathers of the breast and sinking his teeth in, growling defiantly as he did so.  Neither John nor I were prepared to take away his trophy, so we left him, with his baby-sitters, Biscuit and Cookie to keep an eye on him.

…  Anne