Holy Crow!

| 11/27/2009 2:25:13 PM

Tags: dogs, grandsons, crow,

Close-up of the grandson

A photo of Shirley Rodeo VanScoykMy dogs and my grandsons have no “disgust” discernment. There isn’t anything in any state of decay that they won’t poke with a stick or drag from its resting place.

So, one afternoon in July, I wasn’t surprised when I found them hovering over a dead crow in the side yard. Eldest Grandson indeed was poking it with a stick and Youngest Grandson was wringing his hands. He’s had some issues with death ever since the unfortunate “the hamster bit me and I threw him and now he won’t move, whoops he is still alive” fiasco. EG watches the news, he knows about West Nile virus. He knows, with the certainty of a nine year old that something must be done with a dead bird. Youngest Grandson is convinced that if we just give it some water, it will be okay. It worked for the hamster. It takes some persuading to get him to realize that a bird doesn’t just sleep in the yard with its legs up in the air. EG still wants to know what I am going to do with it.

Now, that’s a problem. If I just throw it in the bushes, the dogs (who are waiting impatiently for the kids to give up the stick poking so they can commence with the dismemberment) will drag it back on the lawn. If I bury it, they probably will just dig it up. It doesn’t seem right somehow to just put it in the trash. (I have no logical explanation for this conclusion in retrospect.) And yet, it is so hot I just can’t think what to do.

I tell EG we are doing nothing.

He looks me dead in the eye and says, “Nothing?”

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