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Sammy was in the kitchen, and through the glass sliding-door, he was fixated on a bird near the patio. He badly wanted to go out. I was happy to oblige him; it's a gorgeous day, sunny and briskly cool. But I made a lot of noise to scare off the birds. I feel a little bad. Sammy must think I am a Judas. I don't think I'll ever get used to the idea of the cats killing and eating birds and other little prey.
