One time I happened to be looking out the sliding door when a hawk swooped down and snagged a squirrel in our fenced backyard.
Years ago, when our dog Kate was much younger and we both worked away from the house, she used to spend the daytime hours out in a large, partially-covered dog run. I used to get a kick out of coming home, pulling into the drive, looking at the dog run, and seeing Kate lying at the front, waiting on me, and perched right over her shoulder, a red hawk, just hanging out, like they were buddies. That went on quite a lot over two years.
When we lived in Minnesota, our back yard butted up against a proper pond, large enough that you couldn't throw a rock across. We owned up to the pond, but the pond was part of a public green space (walking trails, meadow, woods). It was really nice.
In that pond lived a muskrat. He was something of a neighborhood mascot. He'd even been named by some folks (Mickey), and it was very common to see him swimming around, back and forth, little fat black spot in the water.
After we'd been there for a couple of years, I was out walking the dog off-leash (which was allowed, as she was normally very good with voice commands), and for whatever reason, she'd had enough of that muskrat, because I let her out, and off like a shot she went, into the pond, where Mickey was doing his laps, and in short order, Mickey The Muskrat was no more.
People used to ask me, since my house was on the pond, if I'd seen Mickey lately...