When my grandfather died my grandmothers cat started bringing in prey. Sometimes it was mice, whole or partial (little mousey entrails on the carpet, not nice at 6am!) and occasionally alive and trying to remove mice from behind the court cupbord was the job of my mother and I for a while. Once he brought her a squiril which he laid carefully in the bath although his best kills were pigins. He used to actually eat the pigins, usually when we were sitting down to tea. My sister sat with her back to the garden, but I sat facing the glass door so gor an unriveled view. I think that the sounds of little bird bones crunching was the worst bit!
Once her brought her a strange bird, it was black and white with a slightly hooked beak. Three doors down were some light sussex bantems (black and white with slightly curved beak) My mother put two and two together and we spent a morning removing feathers from the lawn!