So, I get up, groggy with sleep and my ever-escalating cold, just wanting to feed the dog and go back to bed. My usual ritual is: feed dog, start coffee, pee, get newspaper, settle in to the crossword. On automatic pilot, I walk into the studio bathroom. I'm thinking, oh yeah, we need to clean this place up today for tomorrow's guests. I glance at the floor to see how dirty it is, and I see....feathers.
Just two of them. Little gray-brown ones.
Sigh.
I look under the sink cabinet. No corpse. I check behind the shower curtain. Clean as the proverbial whistle. Hmm. And then I see my cat, silhouetted against the shoji screens that are pulled against the 3 large front windows, her blackness and skinniness accentuated by the white screens. She is standing on the sofa back, stretched tall, paws batting at a fluttering soft grey silhouette on the other side of the screen.
Shit. I almost prefer to find a corpse. I scoop up the cat (and she is not going quietly) and shut the bird up alone in the studio while I ponder what to do next.
Maybe if I wait long enough E will find it and deal with it.
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