We had kind of a Wild Animal weekend, both literally and figuratively. First, a fledgling baby bird appeared in the hedge outside our front window.
And I, being both an idiot and absolutely desperate for outside entertainment and distractions, immediately called all the kids over. After about 75% of the words "HEY GUYS WHO WANTS TO SEE A BABY BIRD" came out of my mouth I realized what a potentially grave error I'd made.
Yes, children! Come get invested in this small, pathetic creature's fight for survival! Come see firsthand how cruel nature can be!
(Last night at the dinner table, Ike offhandedly said something about how 400 whole people have died of coronavirus. His brothers were like, yeah, but don't worry, children don't die from it! Children and babies are totally fine! Then everybody looked at us, the fully adult grown-ups in charge, because that's right, Mom? Dad? Isn't that right? Jason and I just sat there with mouths full of meatloaf staring at each other and mentally playing a game of NOT IT NOPE NOT IT.)
Anyway, the bird did survive the night and by the next morning was hopping from branch to branch and taking short little flights back in the direction of his nest. (The mother bird was always hovering nearby with worms in her beak as well.) At some point we didn't see him anymore but feel reasonable sure that he's fine and flying on his own and being every bit as annoying as his large and screechy extended family, who all live in our trees and make a terrible racket.
Or, you know, he's fox food. But at least we didn't see it happen, or find the evidence anywhere, unlike the Great Flattened Driveway Toad Incident of 2019.
That very night, Poppy spotted a fox in our neighbor's yard and jumped over the fence to chase it, leading us on a late-night chase after HER around the neighborhood. Maybe she was jus tryin to protec the babby birb?
(We have an electric fence -- set to beep, not shock, Poppy's a sensitive soul -- but it stopped working after an unfortunate run-in with either our lawnmower or weed whacker last week. We haven't been able to pinpoint where the connection is broken. 99% of the time, Poppy still respects the boundary and her training but oh, That Damn Fox is absolutely irresistible to some primitive raptor part of her brain.)
I finally found her running around in a complete WHAT DO I DO WHAT HAVE I DONE panic in a neighboring cul de sac and brought her home. She was very sorry. Also muddy.
And then! That very night! Again! This one fell out a window! Again!
We had no idea until the next morning, when we came downstairs and found her sitting outside one of the back doors on the deck. Apparently she'd been lying on a windowsill and the screen popped out and her tubby ass just rolled right out and landed in the yard. She was very, very displeased with the whole situation, then probably forgot about it completely after breakfast.
Dear Pets: Please educate yourselves. Read the news. There's a pandemic. YOU NEED TO STAY HOME.