Thou shalt have a fishy on a little dishy...

Oh my Lord.

My cat has just eaten one of the fish.

Well, "eaten" isn't really an accurate word. He certainly caught a fish out of the pond, although God knows how. But "half-eaten" would probably be a more accurate description of what he's done with it. (Those with a nervous disposition or a sensitive stomach - I'm thinking of Lisa here - may wish to stop reading at this point.) You see, he's kindly left a chunk of it behind as evidence of his dastardly deed.

I suppose you're asking for it when you have a fishpond in close proximity to a cat, really. But still, on the return home from a pleasant and successful shopping trip, that doesn't make the sight of a mangled fish torso (I don't know if fishes technically have torsos, but in my traumatised state I can't think of a better word) awaiting you at the bottom of the stairs any less distressing. Yes, that's right, no head, no tail, just a fish body and some scales. I don't even want to think about the implications of that.

Ugh.