December 27, 2012

White Dog walked in and said, "Just want you to know ahead of time that Quinn and I will be ordering out for dinner." I looked up from the keyboard and she stepped aside to reveal Puff proudly standing behind her. "Dinner's here for you all," White Dog announced as Another White Dog stepped forward and gently laid the  very dead blackbird which had been dangling from her mouth at my feet.

Apparently the gift was left only to be shortly admired for our little old lady almost immediately moved to retrieve it from its resting place. "LEAVE IT!" I commanded and called for Steve to lend a hand before the entire WDA decided to investigate. Puff reached again to reclaim her prize, feathers still stuck to her lips. "I SAID LEAVE IT!" I growled and she took a step back, confused.

There was no blood on her muzzle and from its position the bird was quite stiff and cold. "Don't be silly, she's no murderer," Quinn mindread from behind me. "Is gross, though, that she had it in her mouth." I was holding Puff in my arms, mostly to keep her while Steve cleaned up the corpse, but also to thank her for bringing me such a thoughtful present.

She watched Steve anxiously as he scooped the body into a plastic bag then sanitized the floor. Puff struggled as he carried her "prize" outside to the curb and deposited it in the as yet uncollected trash. When I set her down she dashed to look out of the window and then back at me in horror at my action. AWD demanded to know "Why?" She could not believe that we had wasted such a prime find. She curled up in her crate with a new stuffie to vent her anger and to pout.

"What is wrong with the Puffball?" Nuka said as she woke from a nap and sniffed the area by my desk. Quinn told her the highlights of the Partridge Sans Pear Tree. "That girl is a trip!" Nuka exclaimed. "Did dad get photos? I wonder if she has feather breath."