What?
Outside. It's a dead bird. I didn't do it.
It is a bird. Poor thing, must have hit a window.
It's too bad. I could have eaten it if it had come in.
Oh, Noah!
Well, I could have. That's what they're for. Eating.
No, they aren't.
Oh, really? Tell me about it, Chicken Eater... Devourer of Turkey....
Well, it's just different. Those are raised to be eaten, but we don't eat robins.
I do...or I would if you'd bring me one.
No, I'm not doing it.
Then let me out, and I'll get my own...self-serve!
Again, I say, you are done being an outdoor cat. Remember how it was before we took you in?
Yes, and it's good now, but the food WAS fresher.
But more scarce.
How do you know? I ate pretty well - chipmunk chops, minced mice, robust robins - now it's Frisky's paté...hardly "frisky", and definitely not worth PATéing either. All this talk of food is making me hungry.
Would you like turkey or chicken paté today?
Robin...
There's no robin paté.
Okay, whatever. Surprise me. No. Make it turkey.
