Millie loves birdwatching. She keeps watch over the rooftops and chimney pots.
She sits in neighbours' backyard trees and watches anything that moves.
She also likes to explore a territory that's larger than I feel easy about, wandering beyond the brick and paved streets around us, to the greenery and trees near the church.
I'm learning more about this lively, spirited little cat than I care to know. Her hunting instincts seem to have developed recently: a small rat, a Scotch egg, a chicken breast. And now, more.
This little egg is what she brought home today. I picked up the larger fragments of shell from amidst the spatters of yolk on the kitchen floor, and set them beside a teaspoon to give a sense of scale - nothing culinary intended.
I think it's a robin's egg, but am not sure. Is it? Whatever it is, it isn't any more, and I, for one, am very sorry.
Millie, on the other hand, is rather pleased with herself. We have had a Serious Talk.