I was cruising through Germantown on my way up to West Oak Lane around noon on Wednesday when I caught, out of the corner of my eye, a cat carrying something along the sidewalk.
Upon closer look, I realized that something was a dead squirrel. So, I did what any journalist would do: Pulled over and took a picture. Fine, I didn’t pull over. I stopped in the middle of the street and wielded my iPhone as a tool of moment preservation.
This brings me great joy. For years, my mother told me that a squirrel jumped into my stroller as she was walking under-2-year-old me in Collingswood, NJ. This is to what I chalk up my hatred of squirrels. I know not what led up to said squirrel slaying. But I know that the cat was justified in its actions.
Bravo, feral Philadelphia cat. Bra. Vo.