She had been feeding the birds all winter. She had purchased the best seed for them.  She had put out the finest suet.  Her bird feeders were clean and attractive, located in the best places for bird feeding and safety.

And now today, she found a dead bird.

It was not the entire body of a bird, but the remains. Pieces. Wings, feet. A head and bill. A beautiful red cardinal. One of her favorites that she had cared for all winter.

Now dead.

It was a juvenile from a successful nest built in a dogwood tree in the spring.  She had been so happy to see the male and female cardinals building together, feeding the chick.  She had watched this little cardinal fledge from the nest and fly into the tall green trees of summer. 

But today, as the autumn sun was fading, its life had ended.

It surely was a victim of that black cat that went running out of the backyard just moments ago. Revenge was called for.

She went indoors and got a bucket of cold water. She swore that no longer would her bird friends need to suffer from this scourge. She would do whatever she had to do to put an end to the suffering.

She put on rubber gloves and covered them with canvas gloves. She put a scarf around her face and pulled the hood of her jacket over her head.  Today things would be different.

She went out to her yard.  She walked to the back of it where the alley of brick ran along other backyards connecting them in a maze of gardens, lawns and shrubs. She opened the gate, passed through and closed it.  She gazed down the alley in search of that little murdering black cat. This would be the last time. That cat would die.

She crept along, carrying her bucket of water, ready to take action.

But having walked past six houses on either side of the alley and still not seeing the black cat, she turned and headed back.   There were just too many places for the black cat to hide.

As she opened her gate and stepped back into her yard, she heard a slight meow. 

No mistaking it, it was the cry of a cat, perhaps a kitten. It didn’t matter. Revenge was required.

She looked down and saw a small soft kitten coming through the fence from her neighbor’s yard. 

“Kitty, kitty,” she said in the sweetest voice she could speak.

The kitten approached her, rubbed against her leg, tail caressing her knee.  So sweet.

The woman reached down and grabbed the cat with one hand, shoved it into the bucket of cold water and held its head beneath the bubbling cold brew until the body went limp.

This cat would eat no beautiful bird. Not in its short life. Never!