Thursday, June 14, 2007

Dead animal conundrum

There is a small dove that appears to be dying in my driveway. It hasn't moved since 11 o'clock except to inch over into the shade. I'm glad it can move that much because I was trying to think of something I could take out to shield it from the sun. As I was going onto the house, I saw a dead robin that had apparently done a kamikaze flight into the picture window and crash landed in the shrubbery. It's like a scene from The Birds around here. Regis has a mole trap set up in the front yard and I'm avoiding that, too. It's creepy.

One day a couple summers ago, I was going to take a shower. I was bare naked leaning over the tub when I spotted what appeared to be a small plastic frog on the tub ledge. I peered at it, thinking that it was funny LuAnn, the cleaning lady, had left a toy there. As I was staring at this small toy frog, IT BLINKED IT'S BLOODY EYES. I backed up, got dressed, and went to find a neighbor to remove the frog from my bathroom. It looked like one of those poisonous Amazonian tree frogs and I wasn't going to take any chances. I didn't mind however, asking a neighbor to take a chance. Jan from next door came in and captured the frog in a Rubbermaid container and liberated it in the backyard. I learned later that this (non-poisonous) tree frog is very common in Minnesota and can often be found clinging to windows on humid summer nights. How could I have lived here for fifty years and never seen one? And how did it get in my bathroom?

We're having a small memorial ceremony for Bert tomorrow night. We've invited anyone Bert has ever bitten, which would make quite a crowd now that I think of it. I guess he didn't bite that many people, just the same people multiple times. Regis made some stepping stones for the garden out of paw print molds, mortar mix, and some of Bert's ashes. Betty said she would prepare the eulogy. We'll have a cold beer under the apple tree, plant the rest of the ashes and then retire to the house for hot beef sandwiches and cole slaw. We'll probably do the same when Regis or I kick the bucket.

1 comment:

annie said...

Hi Teresa,
Talk about a bad day for birds...add a baby duck to the list of poor feathered souls.
A woman left me a voice message at work today, and apparently she was driving and yakking on her cell phone. Mid-sentence and about a minute into the message, she gasped and said, "OH SHOOOOOT, I just hit a baby duck. Oh no, I think it's dead. Goodness, what do I do? Oh my, this is dreadful. Poor baby ducky. Poor poor ducky...." and on for about a solid 2 minutes. I must say it was one of the more unique voice messages I've ever received!
At least we can rest assured tonight that the poor baby ducky is in bird heaven with a dove and a robin.