Her real name is Lily, befitting her sparkly collar – but belying her murderous manners. She moved into the neighborhood about a year ago, along with a once-feral cat named Turbo.
He comes by his name rightly, don’t you think? They live across the street, but they have made my garden their home.
Don’t let the cute act fool you. These cats are bird lover’s nightmare. I’m still too devastated to relay the story of the baby Mourning Dove massacre. They are tight-lipped about which one was the actual assassin.
And a gardener’s nemesis, leaving their little stink bomb surprises in the beds to be uncovered by unsuspecting weeders – or poop-loving Goldens. Yes, Jackson. We’re talking about you.
Bonus: in the middle of the night, they jump off the tree onto the roof to test our dog barking alarm. Yup. Works like a charm.
Cats.
How in the world do you teach them: “GO HOME!”