(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.

[kittygopounce.livejournal.com]

*giggles* http://www.livejournal.com/users/gamahucheur/162161.html

Perhaps that's why your cat is bringing you half-dead creatures?

CAT: *grumblegrumbleHumangrumbleNoIdeagrumbleSurviveInTheRealWorldgrumbelgrumble* Here. Eat this, you pathetic excuse for a cat.

HUMAN: Eeeeee-yuuuuuuuuuui! *faints* *vomits* *squirms* *or something*

CAT:I could have eaten that!

[kittygopounce.livejournal.com]

Although, my cat does show a preference for the "Also, please put more kibble in the bowl, kthnxbai." But he does bring plenty of skinks (tiny lizards) into the house (for me or the dog, I'm not sure) and sometimes the odd mouse.

[cleolinda.livejournal.com]

Hee. I like the idea of sending my cat to the store every day (yes, three dogs and a cat. Just be glad we got rid of the rabbits). But the cat's an indoor cat, and denies all knowledge of or responsibility for the Juicy Dead Bird. So I don't know.

[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. :)

[kittygopounce.livejournal.com]

*nods* my cat=not really an indoor cat since my mum decided opening the ground level lourve windows in summer was a good thing and the cat realised "oh, that's a way out!".

But - the shame, the shame! - my cat is marked as the Friendly Neighbourhood Evil ... because people reckon that he is the culprit for the missing guinea pigs and rabbits on our street. It's possible, but also ... hello, fox? Other dogs? Other cats? Hell, your cats? And you would leave the guinea pigs and rabbits in a roofless hutch in our area, wouldn't you? *sigh*

[terriem.livejournal.com]

Thanks! Feel free to take it for all future dead bird stories. (I hope there won't be too many...)

[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.

[cleolinda.livejournal.com]

Okay, the roofless hutch is just stupid. That's like putting up a sign that says DEAR PREDATORS, FREE HAPPY MEALS HERE.

[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.

[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.

[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...

[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.

[cleolinda.livejournal.com]

OMG THANK YOU I'M NOT CRAZY.

One such case occurred on May 15, 1890,in Messignadi, Calabria

Dude, I am so using that in Black Ribbon. I think I can get the characters near Italy about that time...

[cleolinda.livejournal.com]

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

[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.

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

Heh, you're welcome. When I saw the picture, I was like, "DUDE WTF IT'S PURPLE." And then about two seconds later I thought it was the coolest thing ever. *huge nerd*

Ahh, websearches and the wonderful things they bring us. Glad you found it useful. Or something.

[anne-jumps.livejournal.com]

My favorite weird phenomena are the Random Falling Things In Large Groups.

[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.

[alpheratz.livejournal.com]

Aww, Cleo. <3