The vultures are landing in the back field, now.
It's only a matter of time...
They come for the deer, of course. We feed whole carcasses to the wolf-mutts, and the leftovers are too much temptation for our feathery black 'mascots' to resist.
They're getting bolder and bolder...encouraged by the wolfdogs' remarkable laziness. The snoozing, meat-drunk, 120-pound canids don't bat an eyelid when the birds land nearby, and brazenly wander within a few feet of them. I'll take that meaty rib, thanks.
For the vultures, this deal is too good to be true.
It's too good to last.
GOTCHA!