There was the sparrow that Princess brought in. And now there's this.
In the backyard, beneath the crabapple tree, a dismembered robin. Now it could be a few things. Pumpkin for example, although it would be an incompetent robin that flew into his mouth and worked his jaws for him, as that's the only way he could hope to ever catch a bird.
It could have been something it ate, although I wasn't keen to do an autopsy, wasps burrowing into the open wounds upon it's chest. Or old age. There's a rabbit I've seen lurking in the garden, possibly it was that...
Or there's Princess.
I can't prove it was her, but after the sparrow there's a hint of suspicion cast upon her, that maybe, just maybe, I'm living with a sociopath.