(no subject)

[cleolinda]

So... I was going to take the dogs outside, you know, let them run wild and/or free in the back yard, but then just as I got to the screen door I saw a dead bird lying on the deck.

After I got back from taking the dogs out on leashes to do their business, where they were actually much happier, I think, I positioned myself in front of the back door to deal with this problem. Sister Girl is squeamish squared. There was no question that I, as the big sister, was going to have to deal with this. And I don't deal well with dead things, having very little experience with them, as you may know. I get horribly maudlin over dead things. Particularly birds.

I decided to take a stiff outdoor broom and a dustpan out there and see what I could do. It was a brown bird, a very pretty bird. Nothing seemed to be wrong with it that I could tell. Standing outside, I started to worry that it was only very, very tired and that trying to move it would piss it off and it would peck my eyes out. Or something. Then I remembered that I wear glasses, and that I would probably have a fighting chance if it did.

My previous dead bird experience suggested that it would not be conveniently stiff, but I had no idea what I was in for. I tried edging the dustpan under the bird, and it just sort of... gave way, like fabric. I couldn't get any leverage on the damn thing. I'd scoop, and it'd move forward. Scoop. Move. Scoop. Move. Sniffle. Dead. I started to wonder if someone had left a freakishly realistic plush bird on my deck. And then I noticed that the bird was leaking. Well, that settled that question.

Do birds have purple blood? I thought they had... you know... normal-colored blood. And stuff. This one seemed to be sort of oozing from the... beakal area. Which supported my hypothesis that it had flown face-first into my sister's big bedroom window and bounced off into eternal darkness. The blood, if it was blood, was sort of the color and consistency of watered-down blackberry juice. About that point I turned back to the door and wibbled for a few moments. To be honest, I almost burst into tears. But faint heart never won dead bird. Or something.

I eventually achieved my goal of Dead Bird Removal by shrieking "EEEEEE!" in a very loud and girly voice and rolling it into the dustpan with the broom, and then I sort of ran on tiptoe over to the edge of the deck--the part overlooking the woods--and flung the victim into its leafy grave. Except that the dogwood tree hanging right over the deck completely covers the railing with branches, so I had to balance the dustpan in one hand ("AH! THE BIRD IS LOOKING AT ME! THE DEAD BIRD IS LOOKING AT ME!") while I pulled up the branches and stuck my head under with the other. And the whole time I'm thinking, five bucks says that Dead Bird is actually only a baby, and Mama Bird is some giant wrathful harpy sitting on THIS BRANCH RIGHT HERE. So I'm sitting here beating around blindly in the leaves, hoping not to get my hand pecked off and handed back to me, and really hoping that I'm not going to look over at my other hand and find the bird sitting up in the dustpan drooling purple bird juice with a brain-eating look in its eye, and my three dogs are standing at the big kitchen window going, "What the fuck is she doing?"

After I was done with the funeral services, I got out the hose and dedicated a general deck-washing and plant-watering to the Juicy Dead Bird. May you find seed in the halls of your fathers, JDB. Or something.

















JUICY BIRD OF THE UNDEAD: "CAAAAAAW!"

Comments

[derryderrydown.livejournal.com]

At least it was dead. I hate it when they (or mice) are just a little bit alive but are very obviously not going to survive and then you have to steel yourself to actually kill them in some way.

And why does rigor mortis take so long to set in? Why can't they just be conveniently rigid as soon as they're dead? I hate the floppiness.

And, more importantly, why can't my cat just eat the things it hunts?

[cleolinda.livejournal.com]

Well, of course it has to bring half-dismembered things to you, because, clearly, you would starve otherwise. "Also, please put more kibble in the bowl, kthnxbai." Or at least that's how I imagine cat logic goes.

[http://users.livejournal.com/___destijl/]

Now I feel like I need to know more about bird blood. I think I may actually go and do some research on this.

[http://users.livejournal.com/___destijl/]

Yes, yes, I'm a huge dork, but I feel that I have to share this with everyone. *ahem*


This (http://www.scz.org/vet/pics/slide32.jpg) is bird blood. And it is purple. So odd.


"Bird blood is similar to ours in that it contains both red cell (erythrocytes) and white blood cells called leucocytes. The red blood cells are iron-based proteins like ours and do the work of moving oxygen around the system and taking the waste carbon dioxide away from the muscles and other organs. However, unlike ours, a birds red blood cells are nucleated, i.e. they have a nucleus where our red corpuscles have no nucleus." (-earthlife.net)

Just in case anybody cares about the major difference.


WARNING: GROSS.

"Have there ever been actual rains of blood? We have on file numerous cases in which blood was believed to have showered from the skies, but there are only a few in which the substance was analyzed and turned out to be blood.

One such case occurred on May 15, 1890,in Messignadi, Calabria and was described in Popular Science News (35: p.104). A blood rain was identified by the Italian Meteorological Bureau as bird's blood. The explanation proposed by the Italian Meteorological Bureau was that "migratory birds...were caught and torn in a violent wind." There was no mention that there was in fact a violent wind at the time and no bird or part of a bird was seen to have fallen--only blood.

On August 1, 1869, a three minute shower of flesh and blood fell from the sky onto the farm of J. Hudson in Los Nietos Township, California. The materials that fell covered several acres, the conventional explanation being that sloppy buzzards flying overhead were the source of the rain of gore." (-strangemag.com)


Tee hee. Oh, I'm sick. And a huge dork. But I feel somewhat satisfied now.

[terriem.livejournal.com]

I'm so sorry that you had to go through that, but I am laughing so hard right now and feeling really bad about it. Many apologies!

And I think the cat icon is appropriate.

[cleolinda.livejournal.com]

Awww, don't worry about it. I was traumatized for, like, thirty seconds. :)

(I've always liked that icon, btw.)

[savvyfairy.livejournal.com]

This makes me think of Hitchcock's "Birds." Kinda funny, actually. :)

[hawleygriffen.livejournal.com]

Ew. Ewww. Eww. Ewwwww. *is squeamish squared also*

And, yes, my late cat, I remember how she liked to bring back "presents". I knew more about rodent biology than I needed to.

I'm going to bed soon. Think I need to scrub out my brain first.

[telcontar.livejournal.com]

Ew, dead birds.

Don't fret though, it could have been worse. For instance, my darling father once thought it would be amusing to throw a dead bird at me.

Needless to say, I was not amused.

[cleolinda.livejournal.com]

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

[cpip.livejournal.com]

As already stated, yes, the blood of birds is rather dark. I've had some leak all over me, I fear.

Window strikes can kill a lot of birds, especially smaller and frailer ones. I've handled small hawks who flew into a window and nearly killed themselves from the impact. After a while, you start considering this Darwinism.

But, hey, working with hurt birds is what I do...

[cleolinda.livejournal.com]

Really? I didn't know that's what you do, although having Pengy in the icon makes sense. A vet friend of mine took ornithology and he was my "What the hell kind of bird was THAT?" source for a while. Like, when I was in college and had to keep the window open and I'd get woken up every morning by something shrieking "Too-weet! Too-weet! WOOT WOOT WOOT WOOT WOOT!"

Ah, good times.

[gracefallson-me.livejournal.com]

yes, my outside cats always brought their "prizes" to the front door to show them off. they would be standing there looking at us feeling so proud and we would be, "damn cat brought up this nasty mole, or something, and showing it to us like we care". but then we laugh and say, good cat now be gone, and either throw it away or leave it. lol. lovely commentary of your dead bird experience.

[shanisasha.livejournal.com]

My cats liked to bring in their toys with the batteries still in them, this equating to a live mouse that somehow managed to escape the paws of my rather sadistic cat (go figure....almost as if it resembled its owner...) and hid under the washing machine. I swear my cat understood every word my mom screeched at it.

Be glad you saw it before your dogs got to it. I had to wrangle a dead bird from the jaws of my german shepperd, who thought it amusing that the little bird went thud on the ground. So...dead, bloody, mangled and slobbered.

[la-sonnambula.livejournal.com]

Urgh, sorry you had to deal with that. I'm so squeamish, I'd probably wait around for some brave and responsible soul to handle avian body removal.

[cleolinda.livejournal.com]

Oh, I definitely would have, except for the fact that my parents are on vacation until Sunday, and it's just me and Sister Girl alone in the house until then. In case of emergency I'm it, basically.

[alpheratz.livejournal.com]

Aww, Cleo. <3

[haleiwatown.livejournal.com]

Raised in Alaska & Wisconsin, you name it... Birds, bats, bugs, poisonous spiders, raccoons, opossums, and various manners of unfortunate roadkill, we've been through it all, and it doesn't get any easier for me. I'm always teary about dead animals. Even in movies. It's sad.

At least there were no children around at the time of your window's victim's rustic funerial rites.

One thing you come to realize is that children are unconditional spectators. If you're doing Something Gross, they are fascinated with the Gross Something, and stand watch (right on top of you) for the duration of the task, vociferously pronouncing the Something, "GROSS!" (thanksforthetip) and offering advice, gagging and retching and yet all the while, inching closer, watching and commentating with wide-eyed, morbid relish.

I need a holiday.

[cleolinda.livejournal.com]

Awww. My sister's seven years younger than me, so I was pretty much the permanent 24/7 babysitter. I know the feeling. :)

[wock.livejournal.com]

Ten years ago my neighbor Bruce (who, through no fault of his own, is a social worker) asked me to come over and help him get some birds out of his kitchen ventilation fan duct. Suffice it to say that Bruce thoroughly screwed up the plan, and he ended up swinging a broom around madly and screaming like a little girl as we tried to get the birds out of the kitchen. (His own little girl was yelling "I wanna see the dead birds!")

And after it was all over, and the birds were out the door, Bruce looked at me and said "Now I know what it was like in Vietnam".

I had to leave very quickly before I started laughing hysterically.

[cleolinda.livejournal.com]

Ten years ago my neighbor Bruce (who, through no fault of his own, is a social worker)

Hee!

My mom was a social worker until the second time she was mugged her first year; she promptly switched over to corporate benefits management.

[cabell.livejournal.com]

Man, the best thing about the crappy little apartment I rented last year was that when one of the stray cats I'd been feeding died under my back porch, I was able to place a semi-hysterical phone call to the landlords and make someone else take care of it.

Way to make the dead bird funny. :p

[edda.livejournal.com]

I get horribly maudlin over dead things.

Don't feel bad. I've been wibbly over Reagan all day and I wasn't particularly fond of him while he was alive.

At least I didn't find him on my porch. That helps.

[heinous_bitca.livejournal.com]

*sporfle!*

Good thing I didn't have a mouthful of tea at the time!!

[pygmymetal.livejournal.com]

My dogs somehow managed to get a hold of a squirrel that was obviously new to the neighborhood or couldn't read the "3 Ambitious Dogs Live Here" squirrel signs. My male caught one and by the time I got the dogs in the house, poor squizzie was worse for wear.

Pathetic me runs *across* the street where my neighbor, a veterinarian, lived. She was gracious, looked at the poor squizzie soul and told me she'd put him in a box for me to take to the emergency vet to put him down. Poor little squirrel. I apologized to him all the way to the vet.

We've had our share of dead birds hitting the window at work. Then there was the squirrel that didn't make it in the jump from tree to house. Poor guy was paralyzed.

*goes off and cries in her room for poor stupid Darwinean candidates.

[kotszok.livejournal.com]

LMAO!!! Hahaha, OK, that was hilarious!

My mom had a similar experience while picking up my sis and a few other kids from camp. A bird flew into their windshield and exploded. There were intestines on the windshield-wipers 3 days after. lol

Re: Speaking of exploding birds..

[gniko.livejournal.com]

My mom's friend was driving into to town to visit for fourth of july a few years back and a crow flew into her shatterproof windshield and its beak stuck in through the windshield (creating messy explosive effects as the rest of the bird met the windshield)..

but yeah, birds+windshields=nobadno

[tiye.livejournal.com]

I feel your pain. My kitten somehow managed to find a totally squished, mummified, ancient dead baby mouse in the computer room last night. He was shooting it around the floor like a mouse-jerky hockey puck.

I suppose that's better than the usual juicy, freshly dead animals that the cats leave us, but it was still mighty gross.

Re: I don't necessarily have bird stories...

[jazzminarino.livejournal.com]

Apparently, my family is more prominent for squirrel stories. For example, this is my own linking to my journal (http://www.livejournal.com/users/jazzminarino/29046.html) for the infamous squirrel entry.

On another rodent kick, my parents and I came home to my grandmother sitting on top of the washer, hooting and hollering. Apparently, my cat had caught a mouse, and my grandmother had chased them throughout the downstairs of our house. Somehow, they got out to the laundry room, and she realized that the mouse was indeed still alive. Apparently, my cat was letting go of the half-dead mouse, having it run under the washer [where Gram was sitting], catching it with his paw, and letting him scoot back under...

... she was highly irate.

P.S. I friended you after reading your m15m of PoA. I'm sure you hear this all the time, but that was bloody hilarious. Thank you for brightening up my day.

[windsong-moon.livejournal.com]

Is it wrong that I found that extremely hilarious?

Yellow Bird

[zombiequeen.livejournal.com]

That gave me the shivers, Cleo! (I mean in a good way.) Great essay.

[katiefoolery.livejournal.com]

So incredibly funny! But then, they will insist on flying face-first into windows. I must admit, wildlife can be funny, whether it's alive or dead. Fortunately, I've had more fun with living wildlife. The funniest thing I ever saw was a mouse escaping from my cat by corkscrewing its way up a tree trunk. The cat was puzzled for hours.

[vivian-shaw.livejournal.com]

Gaaah, would you stop making me laugh like an idiot at work?

Brilliant. I too have done my share of dead-bird-scooping, only minus bird blood and evil death zombie bird fear. I generally tossed them over the wall into next door's garden (neighbours famous for tossing THEIR snails into MY garden so that MY plants would get eaten by THEIR snails).

[(Anonymous)]

Oy, I'm so sorry about the bird! I have a cat who drags random rodent parts to our doorstep and I've also had a few birds who fly into the windows and die.
Your story is funny, though. Not the situation (I hate dealing with any sort of dead thing too) but the way you told it. ^^

eep

[georgie21.livejournal.com]

As the oldest sister, I had to do the dead bird thing once. The dead bird I had to pick up was, like, dismantled. My dog got to it before I did, it was gross. You may be interested to know that the birds(presumably) blood was purple... ew. Just thinking about it is so.... ew. I ended up putting a garbage can under my deck and sweeping the bird remains into it.