I have now officially proven myself capable of self-sufficiency once more, as we have just had what fellow dog owners will recognize immediately from the following descriptive title: A Great Dead Bird Incident.
For whatever reason, for one time only, Emma’s Golden Retriever side kicked in and here she trotted to the back door with a tiny beak hanging out one side of her mouth and little claw feet out the other. I ran through my options: wait until Christopher and Barzak arrive home and hope she hasn’t eaten it; go over to the neighbors’ and get them to deal with it; or do something.
I’m unwilling to dip too far beneath the surface of Lake Helpless Female it turns out, so I got a trash bag and a bag of newly-purchased Greenies. She’d deposited the bird on the mat at the door. I could have kissed her, were it not for the dead bird breath and her being a dog. I distributed Greenies to all three dogs (ours and the neighbors’ puppy Pickles), scooped up the bird in the trash bag and put it in the dumpster.
And the orchestra swelled…
Christopher can deal with disposing of it properly when he gets home.
Now I work on final revisions of a loooong-overdue short story.
Chicks kick ass! I had a similar experience years ago when a boyfriend and I de-cohabitated. Mine was a Huge Waterbug Experience. I nearly called him in NJ (I was in Brooklyn at the time) to have him drive over before work to kill it.