I’d just decided that today was going to be a really good day when the bird hit the window.
I’ve been sleeping some nights out in the living room due to both my snoring and the fact that the mattress in our room gives me a sore back. Dennis was just starting to stir and I was enjoying that nice dozy waking up feeling and thinking about poached eggs with Worcestershire Sauce.
I knew the sound straight away. I’m not very good with dead things unless they come from the butcher and are wrapped in plastic. Freshly dead is not for me. I got up to inspect. It looked to be an adult Blackbird and he was in a bad way. There’s something in my psyche that makes me want to give human names to animals. It’s a game I play with Miss Moo when we’re out and about. ”What’s that dogs name Daddy? I usually respond with traditional sounding names. ”That’s Keith.” I’ll say. Or something similar like Barry, Kevin, Tony, or the like.
I stood at the back door in my undies watching the bird twitch Carnivale style. “Poor Vince.” I thought to myself, “You’re fucked.”
Given that it was 7.00am Monday morning I was keen to avoid another talk about life and death with Miss Moo. So disposing of the carcass discreetly was the first priority. Pre-coffee my brain function is low so by the time I’d found the BBQ tongs and an appropriately strong plastic bag from Aldi, both kids and the cat and dog were standing at the back door looking at the bird. Miss Moo wanted to know why I’d killed it.
“I didn’t kill it Honey. It flew into the window by accident.”
“Did you make it do it?”
“No Honey. It was an accident.”
“Is it dead?”
“I think so. Whatever we do though we can’t let the pets out. Ok?”
“Dadddy. The bird is standing up now.”
The impact had only stunned the poor thing and it was now upright and staring at the four sets of eyes beyond the glass. Moo opened the door and there was a rush. The Menace was knocked over by the dog, hit his head on the floorboards and started screaming. The bird fluttered awkwardly towards the fence with the pets in hot pursuit. Moo was right behind them and in the excitement forgot about the thirty centimetre drop at the end of the deck, fell, and crashed into a Little Tikes plastic kids car, and started screaming too. Woken by the commotion Juicy Tomato came running from the bedroom demanding to know what I’d done to the kids.
“I’m just cleaning up the bloody dead bird. ALRIGHT.”
“What dead bird? Where is it?”
“That bird there sitting on the fence.”
“Are you trying to catch a bird with those tongs and suffocate it in a plastic bag?”
“Of course. I start everyday by pulling the trigger on protected birdlife in front of the kids.”
Once everything had settled down I took myself off to the bedroom with the laptop and a coffee and looked on Youtube for something to cheer me up. I found this and it worked.
Today is going to be a really good day.