This line just keeps playing in my head...
Charlie has killed two birds in two days, she's out of control.
We've had a Mud Martin nest on our back porch since the beginning of the summer. The husband and wife, yes that's what I call them because they look like love birds, have been buidling their nest and (supposedly) making some babies.. Well, they had three a few weeks ago, and seriously, these little birds are adorable. And I don't even like birds.
Monday evening I had let Charlie out to pee... and while I waas watching TV I noticed she was barking. ALOT. So I went to investigate and realized that she had a baby bird... playing with it. I finally got her away, but the bird didn't make it. The worst part: I had to dispose of the dead birdie. Birds are gross. I know I said they're cute, but that doesn't mean I want to touch them or even be nearer to them than about 10 feet.
Last night, the same thing happened. Except Mama bird was flying around Charlie and baby bird was trying to fly/run away. So I ran out and grabbed Charlie, put her inside, and realized that baby was still alive.
Well, I sure wasn't going to touch it. I waited til my mom got home and she put near the nest, hoping Mama can nurse it back to health, or feed it, or whatever. I hate to be the pessimist, but there's no way in hell that baby is surviving...
Charlie: Seven pounds of pure baby killing terror. be afraid.
1 comment:
sweet little Charlie! She doesn't know she's being mean :)
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