Out in the suburbs, no one can hear you scream....

This is the slightly disturbing sight that greeted me when I left the flat this afternoon. A massive leg bone lying in the middle of our garden path. I have no idea what kind of creature it used to belong to, but it's fairly stripped of flesh.

Either the local foxes have turned quite nasty and started leaving us the remains of their prey, or one of my flatmates is actually a werewolf. Given the hours that some of them keep it wouldn't be surprising.

The other theory, of course, is that it's merely the leftovers from someone's drunken Fried Chicken purchase last night - the new Chicken Cottage family bucket perhaps?