Being a Doggy Mama - Don't mess with the Birdies

  

We have a little bush outside our front door, next to the steps up to the front porch.

The other night I was sitting outside getting some air (OK, OK, having a cigarette), and Puppy Dog was with me.

He generally sniffs around the front porch a bit, then sits and sniffs the neighborhood air, listening to all the sounds.  That evening, however, he kept sniffing the bush.  Then he walked down the steps to the porch, around to the other side of the bush, and kept sniffing.

Then I saw it.

There was a small bird sitting on a branch at the top of the bush, completely still.  The minute I saw it, I sent Puppy Dog inside the house. 

I looked at the bird - it wasn't moving.  I know I'm an imbecile, but I didn't realize it was roosting.  I thought it was dead.  The annoyance, ickiness and general blergh of having to pluck a dead bird off the bush, and get rid of it somehow, ran through my mind.

I gently touched the bush.

The bird's head moved - turned so it could see me better - and it blinked.  Once.

OK, not dead.

I went inside and left the bird alone.

The next morning, I went out to see if the bird was OK.

Where it had been roosting, it had left a little message for us.  It clearly was not impressed with having a human and a dog disturb it's sleep. 

It had left us a massive pooh.  White and black, it was about an inch and a half in diameter.  A round, smelly, gooey message of dissatisfaction at room service.