The Bird: A Three Part Saga, and then some more whining
This morning, Coconut stayed outside for an unusual amount of time. I peeked out at her a couple of times, and she seemed to be happily chewing on/tossing in the air/pouncing on a stick, and so I left her out until it was time for me to leave for work. Except when she finally came inside, she brought the "stick" with her. She dropped it, and I realized it was not a stick, but I wasn't sure what it was. I had to corner her, and when she finally dropped it again, I snatched her up and put her in the kitchen while I examined the strange blob.
Then I ran gagging into the kitchen to get something with which to pick up what I could only assume was a bird. It was kinda hard to tell, but I thought I could make out a feather.
The whole thing was so disgusting, but I thought it was over.
It was not.
I came home, let the dog out, went to the bathroom myself, and when I went back downstairs to let her in, she was tossing around a gigantic bird with no head and one wing!!!!! GAH!!! I ran in to get a plastic bag, figuring if I could get her, I'd take the bird with the bag and then just turn it inside out. But Coconut had other plans. Our yard is big, people. There is plenty of room to run away, should you be a dog who doesn't want to give up the best treasure you've ever found, and there are plenty of trees that are in perfect humans-can't-get-me-here! positions close to the fence.
I spent about 5 minutes chasing her around the yard, until I finally called Alex freaking out that our dog was running around with a possibly diseased dead bird whose bone she might chew out and choke on. Then, when she let it go (and I don't know what got her to do that) and went inside, I could not bring myself to pick up the bird. Yes, my hand was in a bag, and my skin would not have made contact with it, but ug! I couldn't bring myself to do it. I kept gagging and thinking about what it would feel like to have the nasty thing in my hand, and screamed in girly disgust (similar to that when I smoosh a bug with a napkin and can feel the crunch underneath) until Alex finally yelled at me to just get the shovel, duh.
I shoveled the bird into the bag, put the bag into an empty shoebox, and put the shoebox into a trashcan outside, with a lid. Thank god that's over, I thought.
But oh, no, there was more to come.
The other wing, to be exact.
Coconut found the other wing; third verse, same as the first. I got her to go inside without it, and was able to get the wing and add it to the bird box in the trash can.
Physically, I think the bird is gone now. But apparently its spirit, or at the very least, its scent, still remains in our yard, because now every time I let the dog out, she runs around with her nose in the grass barking frantically. So frantically, in fact, that I cannot allow her to stay outside for fear of making enemies of my neighbor. This means I have to get her to come inside before she actually goes to the bathroom, which means the whole song and dance happens again 10 minutes later, which believe me, is not long enough for her to forget about the bird and just go outside and take a shit.
Outside barking alternates with time spent standing on the back of the couch, sticking her head between the slats of the hideous vertical blinds and, and barking some more at anything or nothing, but probably mostly reflections of self on the window.
The only way to stop this cycle was to put her in her crate, which I usually only do at night when I'm sleeping. I have since been getting 5 minute intervals of peace and inner-crate digging.
*****
Also? We have no food in this house. We are about a week overdue for grocery shopping, and all that is left is pasta and rice, and the Lean Cuisine I settled on made me gag because I kept thinking about the bird.
*****
And, I have this weird rash on my thighs and my butt.
You're welcome.
It is similar to the rash I get on my hands when they are extremely dry, so when I got home from work I slathered it with Eucerin, but that made it itch even more, so I tried Benadryl cream, which inflamed the whole thing even more and stung so badly that I had to take a shower to wash all the creams off.
Feeling slightly better.
*****
And one more complaint: My house is a mess, and I just don't feel like cleaning it.
(Surprise, surprise.)
Then I ran gagging into the kitchen to get something with which to pick up what I could only assume was a bird. It was kinda hard to tell, but I thought I could make out a feather.
The whole thing was so disgusting, but I thought it was over.
It was not.
I came home, let the dog out, went to the bathroom myself, and when I went back downstairs to let her in, she was tossing around a gigantic bird with no head and one wing!!!!! GAH!!! I ran in to get a plastic bag, figuring if I could get her, I'd take the bird with the bag and then just turn it inside out. But Coconut had other plans. Our yard is big, people. There is plenty of room to run away, should you be a dog who doesn't want to give up the best treasure you've ever found, and there are plenty of trees that are in perfect humans-can't-get-me-here! positions close to the fence.
I spent about 5 minutes chasing her around the yard, until I finally called Alex freaking out that our dog was running around with a possibly diseased dead bird whose bone she might chew out and choke on. Then, when she let it go (and I don't know what got her to do that) and went inside, I could not bring myself to pick up the bird. Yes, my hand was in a bag, and my skin would not have made contact with it, but ug! I couldn't bring myself to do it. I kept gagging and thinking about what it would feel like to have the nasty thing in my hand, and screamed in girly disgust (similar to that when I smoosh a bug with a napkin and can feel the crunch underneath) until Alex finally yelled at me to just get the shovel, duh.
I shoveled the bird into the bag, put the bag into an empty shoebox, and put the shoebox into a trashcan outside, with a lid. Thank god that's over, I thought.
But oh, no, there was more to come.
The other wing, to be exact.
Coconut found the other wing; third verse, same as the first. I got her to go inside without it, and was able to get the wing and add it to the bird box in the trash can.
Physically, I think the bird is gone now. But apparently its spirit, or at the very least, its scent, still remains in our yard, because now every time I let the dog out, she runs around with her nose in the grass barking frantically. So frantically, in fact, that I cannot allow her to stay outside for fear of making enemies of my neighbor. This means I have to get her to come inside before she actually goes to the bathroom, which means the whole song and dance happens again 10 minutes later, which believe me, is not long enough for her to forget about the bird and just go outside and take a shit.
Outside barking alternates with time spent standing on the back of the couch, sticking her head between the slats of the hideous vertical blinds and, and barking some more at anything or nothing, but probably mostly reflections of self on the window.
The only way to stop this cycle was to put her in her crate, which I usually only do at night when I'm sleeping. I have since been getting 5 minute intervals of peace and inner-crate digging.
*****
Also? We have no food in this house. We are about a week overdue for grocery shopping, and all that is left is pasta and rice, and the Lean Cuisine I settled on made me gag because I kept thinking about the bird.
*****
And, I have this weird rash on my thighs and my butt.
You're welcome.
It is similar to the rash I get on my hands when they are extremely dry, so when I got home from work I slathered it with Eucerin, but that made it itch even more, so I tried Benadryl cream, which inflamed the whole thing even more and stung so badly that I had to take a shower to wash all the creams off.
Feeling slightly better.
*****
And one more complaint: My house is a mess, and I just don't feel like cleaning it.
(Surprise, surprise.)
posted by Jess at 8:42 PM
3 Comments:
Ick! on the bird. My floridian cat would catch small lizards in the screened pool area...and those he would kill swiftly. My parents' old dog caught a mole once, but rather than kill it, he brought it to live in the house like it was his new friend. And the Ninja? He likes to chase things, but once the fly/bug of choice stops moving, he loses interest. A damn shame since usually they're still alive.
Dude. I HEAR YOU on the bird thing. It's so, so, so gross and my dogs have caught a few birds in the backyard. In fact, i wrote a post about it last year sometime. Ew. And the barking? I KNOW. The incessant, no reason barking. Why did we get dogs?
I don't know.
and sorry about the rash. That sounds awful... Maybe calamine? any chance it's poison ivy? how poison ivy could get on your ass, i don't want to know.
Again, sorry for laughing, but the bird story is too funny. If i had not recently had my own set of disgusting adventures, i would be even more grossed out. Now i just want to go back and read the whole things again. Just when you think things can't get any worse...
I'm glad i read the next post already, so i don't have to feel bad about laughing about your butt rash. Although in my defense, it's more your, "You're welcome" that cracks me up.
One final thing: clean houses are significantly overrated!!
Post a Comment
<< Home