I posted on Facebook on Tuesday that when I let Buddy (my dachshund) out that morning I noticed a dead bird on the concrete pad outside the basement door. I’m guessing it rammed headfirst into the glass door and immediately died. It was a gray bird – not sure what species. This is not the first time this has happened. Sometimes the birds fly into the windows and survive; sometimes they don’t. The last time I had to remove a dead bird was last year sometime, and that was a female cardinal. That bothered me – I love cardinals (much like my mom).
Things usually come in 3’s, right?
Wednesday after work when I let Buddy out, I heard a lot of anxious wing flapping on the ground under a forsythia bush near the corner of the house. I looked and sure enough, a bird was desperately trying to get up. I got my garden gloves and pruner because I had to cut back a few branches to get to the poor bird. By the time I did, which was only a matter of a few minutes, the teenage male cardinal was almost gone. I picked it up gingerly and coddled it in my hand. Its eyelids moved so slowly, and I watched as it expired in my hand. I got emotional – it just didn’t feel right that two birds in two days died in my backyard. Especially one dying in my hand. It’s hard for a mom to deal with.
Jamie had just gotten home at the point I discovered the bird under the bush. Upon determining the bird was dead, he told me to fling it over the fence.
Fling the bird that just died in my hand over the fence?
I couldn’t do that. I rested the bird (with what I think may have been a broken neck) on the stones under the little bridge in my backyard. I figured nature would do its thing – whatever that was going to be – and the bird would be gone when I checked the next day.
It was still there Thursday evening. A handful of ants were crawling on its underside. This time I decided it was better to put the bird on the other side of the fence (not fling it, but put it there).
I will not climb over the fence to check on it after work today.
But I’m wondering when and where I’ll find the third bird.
Although Josh let me know this afternoon that while he was cutting the grass he found a dead mouse under the picnic table under the deck. Does that count as the third occurrence of dead things in the backyard?
Maybe I should write to Stephen King and ask him … he may know.