Last time any of the Canine Division of the Collective dug up a
dead cat they were in sooooo much trouble. Dog House, Biscuit Rationing, Naughty Corner, Threats of Battersea, Full-on Banishment from the Collective. It was Hatty and Diva, our predecessors. OK, it wasn't actually discovered in our territory. It led to our human shouting "You Bury your cat, under three inches of soil in a fkin carrier bag, and don't think the smell might *just* attract the dogs?" Followed by "Calling My Dogs woofin vermin you pair of cats?"
Were she more athletic, she would have vaulted the fence and ripped the neighbours heads off. The doglets gnashed supportively but silently, and at a skulky distance, figuring they had possibly caused this *bit of a do* with the neighbours.
hippy digs up a cat skull two foot down at Triffid Central, not a murmur from our leader apart from a "Ewww - yucky poo! I hope you washed your hands" Equality don't mean dip when your a dog.