Once he was all cute and cuddly, playful and snuggly, then he slowly got bigger and heavier, his teeth sharper and his claws more pointy, and then we simply lopped his balls off – just in case, one never knows you know.
But despite this huge handicap, this unfortunate obstacle placed in his way, little Achilles has finally proved himself to be a real man, a fighter worthy of the legendary name we bestowed upon him, by at last bringing down a (I imagine bewildered) pigeon, beheading it and then eating out its heart and stripping the entrails from within the lifeless carcass, leaving a bloody trail of destruction in his wake.
As parents we are very proud of you boy but the question needs to be asked: “Did you really have to litter the entire house full of feathers and blood stains, leave the bloody, headless carcass on our beautiful off-white, furry carpet in the bedroom and then have the audacity to leave little bloody footprints everywhere you jumped up on in the house?”
Oh, and please explain just how you managed to get a meaty bloodstain on the ceiling in the process of this murder most fowl?
(For your information though, Chantelle was tasked with the squishy job of removing the carcass – turns out I really am a squeamish wuss when it comes to body parts. But I did a find job of removing the feathers if I say so myself. New question though: how does one get bloodstains out of a carpet?)