Robert left this afternoon to go pick up a friend of his from the airport about 11 minutes ago.
What's significant about "11 minutes", you ask ?
Well, I'll tell ya.
Approximately TEN minutes ago, Scooter brought in another DANG BIRD.
This one was still breathing, thank goodness, so he's now ensconced in the cat carrier next to our fireplace that only has the pilot light going. (I wanted him to be able to warm up, not have roasted tweety bird, after all.) Scooter was plied by a liberal administration of the kitty treats he loves best, so I am not perforated, either.
Anyhow, this is yet another post that demonstrates my husband's unique and absolutely mystifying sense of timing.
Thoughts ?
Update: Please play taps on the nose flute. Bird decided to squeeze out of the carrier holes while I was in the shower for five minutes and Scooter made sure that the bird won't do it again. I have sent the bird to the Great Feeder in the Sky in one of my soon-to-be-patented Ziploc bird coffins. (With extra spearmint as greenery.)
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1 comment:
Well thunk it as Scooter cleaning up the bird genepool.
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