Dead

I watched baseball till midnight last night. Thank God we won and it's on to the division series or I'd be really ticked, instead of just tired, right now.

So tonight I come dragging home from work, half dead, the couch loudly calling me, to find a bird lying face down at my back door. And Jadn was in the house all day! There's no way he can take credit for this carcass.

I had to enter my domicile by the front door, for crying out loud. I wasn't taking any chances of the bird coming back to life and flying up my skirt, thank you very little.

So what does this dead bird mean? That some neighborhood cat is dropping dead gifts off for me? Or the poor dumb bird (I think they have brains as big as a grain of rice, don't they?) had a heart attack while he was flying toward my house and just dropped out of the sky? He was playing dive-bomber at my dinnette window and crashed?

Frankly, the whole thing is rather unsettling.

I kinda hate days that end with me getting the Dead Animal Shovel (patent pending) out of the garage and winging a carcass behind the garage.

Eewwww.