The Urban Jungle
This morning is perhaps the first day this year I’ve been sorry for my walking commute. No, the “welcome to your new job” Valentine’s Day blizzard didn’t do me in, nor did this summer’s blistering heat and tropical humidity. Chalk it up instead to what I call “the squeamish factor.”
This morning, I was wandering up Chestnut, my iPod playing, in my traditional pre-caffienated haze, when the feel of the ground through my sneaker changed. My toe had gently collided with something soft, and I looked down to see what it was.
What it was was a soft, feathery, decapitated bird. Some city cat did his hunting but good. And all I have to say about it is:
Ewwwwwwwwwwwww!
Related posts:
I had to sidestep a dead bird yesterday too… maybe there’s some kind of bird flattening disease going around. Or maybe this city has more cats than I realize.
Sherri has bird flu!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
:P
Oh that is gross. I remember when I was 15, walking to the bus stop to go to school, and encountering a dead bird. I can still remember the utter revulsion I felt in that moment. Blech.
hmmm…your bird might have been done in by the cat i saw lying in the road last night. karmaaaa.