Dad? What eats squirrel, do you think?
There’s a half eaten squirrel in the den.
The sound of Middle’s, Oldest’s and my screams pierce the air as we go running from the kitchen without even looking in the den. This is who we are. Alpha Man’s hair was blown back as we passed him. He blew out a defeated breath and headed for the den.
A few minutes later he exited the house with a bag in his hands, and when he came back in, Frat Boy was prancing happily at his feet, looking suspiciously pleased with himself. We were all huddled together on the stairs waiting for an explanation.
She was right. It was a half eaten squirrel.
Frat Boy was looking proud, as if to say “you’re welcome”.
Not an hour later, Sadie brought me a very dead butterfly, missing one wing.