It was a chilly windy afternoon. The sun was shining and the damn dog was barking. I open the back door to tell him to stop barking and come inside to find him standing over a dead bird. Yep, that pop sound I thought I heard a bit ago was a stupid bird that committed suicide by flying into our window.
Awesome.
NO. NO. NO. NO. NO!!!! How may times can I YELL this word at the dog?? Now the bird has been picked up and tossed. Now stepped on. Now jumped on. Now tossed. The dog is salivating.....Is this how swine flu is contracted???
FUCK.
DAMN. This is when I HATE the dog.
My husband laughed. His colleague said to get the broom. The dog is proud of his new dead friend. He brought his new dead friend to the door. Sorry Apollo, your new dead bird friend is not welcome in our home.
Great. Now there are feathers blowing in the wind......and a bare dead bird at the swing set.
Looks like we will be playing in the front yard this afternoon.
RIP Tweety. It was not Sylvester that brought you to your demise. It was Apollo, the 60 lb Boxer.
