D.O.P.-T.

[weofodthignen]

This morning when I went out with cat food, Monty and Silver were both there, but ran for the shelter of the car; I looked down behind the end of the porch and there was Mama Violet, glowering as usual; she turned back and while Monty ventured up the steps to get his breakfast from me, resumed ripping at something in the edge of the grass, with her back to my window so I wouldn't see her prey. I hope a rodent rather than a bird.