something like that, anyway.
There was a dead bird in our front yard today. We decided the best thing would be to put it into the woods across the street from our house, and Ignatz volunteered to take care of it. I got him the shovel and stood ready to assist if necessary. I thought he would carry it sedately over the road and deposit it gently in the ivy, respect for the dead and all that, but no. He gave the shovel a mighty heave, and FWING! the bird carcass made a high and completely undignified arc across the road, and FWUMP! disappeared into the foliage.
Ignatz bowed his head and put his hand on his heart for a moment, and that was the end of it.
You know, my mom always said that babies are cute and all, but the real fun comes when they hit 12 or so. I begin to see what she meant.
Song du jour of the day: I Can’t Wait, by Stevie Nicks.