The first day of our road trip my mom and I hit a bird while driving. Bird murder was bad enough, but to make matters worse, when we stopped we realized the brid was still stuck in between the hood and the bumper, with a wing sticking out. We hit the bird somewhere in Ohio, and I think my mother finally got the guts to remove it around Oklaholma or Texas. Or remove the wing anyways; you could still see a dessicated talon reaching out from the engine.
Fast forward to tonight when I (finally) decided to check my oil, seeing as the car had endured a 3,000 cross country road trip. I stuck my hand in between the hood and bumper and touched...bird. Such jumping around and screaming has not been witnessed maybe since the time last fall when a bird got into our house one Saturday morning. Yes, the poor bird, minus one wing, had been riding around with me for almost a month. Lucky for me Victor was around to perform bird removal and burial services, and we had a nice funeral procession to the dumpster.
I just feel bad for the bird, because his body is strewn across state lines and his spirit will have a time getting back together.
P.S. Victor helped me write this post. He says hi.
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