There I was, minding my own business...

I'd just come home from work, fed the dogs, and let them into the back yard to attend to 'business'. I happened to wander past the kitchen window and glanced into the yard to check on the hounds. There was Rascal, all the way back at the back fence, lying on the ground and chewing on something he was holding between his front paws. Not really an unusual sight, I had after all seen him do this while enjoying one of his chew toys. What struck me as unusual was that we don't keep chew toys in the back yard.

Hmmmm.... I decided an investigation was in order.

I went into the back yard. Pepper was off looking for adventure in another part of the yard. As I got closer to Rascal, I noticed a small mass between his paws, from which he was gleefully ripping off pieces and eating. Then I noticed the blood. This dog was having entirely too much fun and it was high time it came to an end. I chased him off of his find. It was the typical scene of the dominant male running off another male from the 'kill'. (Maybe I've seen too many Wild Kingdom shows.)

The Thing lying at my feet was not easily identified. Most of It seemed to be missing. There were a number of feathers around, so It probably used to be a bird. I bent down to take a careful inventory. Rascal was slinking around cutting me to shreds with evil looks. I started hoping he didn't decide to attack to regain control of the Thing now at my feet. The inventory didn't take long. It appeared to be about 25% of a bird torso with the stub of one wing and one foot still attached. I looked around for the rest of the victim and saw nothing except a very angry dog, now clearly showing his teeth. Very quickly I came to the conclusion that the rest of the poor, unfortunate bird was inside my dog. Knowing Rascal's history, I also came to the conclusion that it would soon bounce back out of my dog. I wasn't looking forward to cleaning up _that_ mess.

It was time to put an end to this situation -- Rascal was starting to scare me. Amid loud shouts of "Show's over. Everyone go back home," I picked up the remains, proceeded to the trash can, and officiated over a quick funeral.

Still not looking forward to the Bouncing Phenomenon in Rascal's future, I left both dogs outside and went inside. A few minutes later, I happened to be passing by the kitchen window and glanced into the yard to check on the hounds. There was Rascal, all the way back at the back fence, lying on the ground and chewing on something he was holding between his front paws. Not really an unusual sight... Wait a minute! Weren't we just through this?!?

I flung open the back door and nearly ran over Pepper, who was all but leaning on the door trying to get inside. As she ran past me on the way in, I caught a quick look at her eyes. They were very clearly saying, "He's the one! I had nothing to do with it! DON'T BEAT ME!!!" I raced back to the fence and chased Rascal off his new 'kill.' I did a quick inventory and noticed most of the rest of a bird torso, complete with the other foot still attached. This pleased me immensely. There was evidently less bird inside my dog than I had originally thought. The Bounce Phenomenon was going to be less of a problem. With the reduction in Bounce Threat, and seeing as how Rascal really WAS having too much fun in the back yard, I very firmly escorted the mischievous mutt back into the safety of the house. He was _not_ amused.

I grabbed a small plastic bag and went back to retrieve the newly discovered piece of the carcass. On the way back to the back fence, I passed by the bird feeder (nowhere near the fence) and happened to glance down at the ground. I was horrified at what I saw.

MORE BIRD PARTS!!!!!

Geez! Did the damn thing blow up?!? There seemed to be parts all over the place! I grabbed my mental bird-parts-inventory, and started to put the pieces in the plastic bag. One bird head, (I was wondering where that was--thank goodness it wasn't inside Rascal. I wasn't looking forward to that bouncing back out of him), most of a left wing, (this is looking good, eventually I'll have the whole bird), more feathers, and a couple of feet.

...A couple of feet?

Hold on here. Time to do a little arithmetic. There was one foot on the original piece. There's one foot still on the second piece back at the fence awaiting removal. And here's two more feet. HOLY SMOKES! There's more than one bird involved here! A quick update of the inventory now told me that, based on two original birds, the missing pieces now included:

           1   bird head
           2.5 wings
           1   torso
           0   feet

and there's a good chance they're inside Rascal. He's probably inside looking for a toothpick and the Pepto-Bismal.

I gathered up the new pieces, the piece still at the back fence, and did a very thorough search for more pieces-parts. None to be found. Once again I attended a trash-can-side birdy burial.

I never did find the missing bird parts; either in the yard or coming out of Rascal.

Skip forward 14 days. Rascal's been enjoying the daily supply of dead birds. It's become a ritual to search the yard for carcasses before letting the dogs out. A most gruesome task. As carefully as we search, there occasionally is a foul (fowl?) feast for the happy hound. The leading theory is that they're dropping dead from the heat. Then one evening, Mary and I are watching the birds come to the bird feeder at the window to eat, and we notice something amiss about one of the dining guests. Half of his face seems to be missing. ?!?!?

The theory now includes a predator. Not the dogs, of course. They're both too slow to catch anything that isn't already dead.

Forward 2 days. We've begun discussing putting a video camera in the kitchen window to slowly record the activities in the back yard while we're gone. Then, while M and I are removing the latest carcass from the yard, M notices a bird fly up out of the garden. It wasn't really flying too well. It circled around a bit and then...dropped. Just plain ole fell out of the sky. Rascal, of course, immediately pounced on it. But we chased him away and looked at the bird. It was still alive but acted like it was too tired to fly away. I bent down to look at it and...

IT WAS MISSING BOTH EYES!!!!!!!

AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

This is getting really weird. I sent M in to call the vet and get some answers. Meanwhile, I covered the still living beast with a flower pot to keep away any other opportunistic carnivores. I went inside where M was singing the tale in four part harmony to the vet on the phone. The vet's response was, "Sound's like the virus. I goes after finch eyeballs."

(yuk)

Apparently there's an outbreak of some virus that destroys finch eyeballs. (Just when you thought you've heard it all.) We transported the doomed critter to the vet where it was put out of its misery.

If there's something killing the neighborhood birds, I'd just as soon they went somewhere else to buy the farm. The bird feeders are coming down!