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First, on Monday I came home from class to a bloody, feathered mess in the kitchen. "Look what the cat d..." nevermind. I was amazed that some cat actually caught a bird! Usually they miss by about 5 yards.
I think the poor thing was already mostly dead when they brought him in, but that doesn't stop our boys. Once, in the middle of the night I found Gatsby playing with a nearly dead mouse. He'd set it up by placing the mouse behind the closet door, going back around to the other side, and then reaching around and batting at it. Gross. Anyway, back to the bird. I cleaned up the mess in the kitchen, which required a lot of suds and feather catching skillz, and went on with my week.
On Tuesday, our Boot Camp class shared Sellwood Park with a bunch of screaming crows. It was annoying and impressive all at once! On Wednesday I was reminded that that's called a murder of crows. Gross again.
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-A
1 comment:
Uh, yeah, I was wondering what the house would look like if it wasn't dead. What's the blood volume of a medium-sized bird, Chris?
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