Ain't Nature Grand?

I had a bit of a Discovery Channel/National Geographic moment the other day on the mulcher. I was chugging merrily down the paddock, turning barley into mulch when out of the blue (literally) a wedge-tailed eagle swooped into the field about twenty metres in front of the tractor. I stopped and watched as the wedgie struggled to lift his(?) prey out of the sprayed-out barley into the stubble. When the raptor had dragged his lunch out of the way, I put the tractor into gear and started down the paddock again. When I drew level with him the eagle took off.
I went over to have a look at what he'd caught and it was a cat. The cat wasn't dead; it's spine was broken and it was trying to drag itself away to safety. Not wanting to put any human scent on it, I left it to it's own devices. Eagles must be a suspicious species, because, after I'd completed three laps of the paddock the eagle still hadn't returned. In the end I went over to the feral beastie, which turned its head and stared into my eyes with an expression of absolute trust such as you rarely see in a wild animal, and broke its neck like a chook.