Where is the REST of the Bird?

You know that moment.

The one when you return from a day-long excursion and the girls were left to their own devices. (Four-legged, furry, sisters from the same litter - that kind of girls.)

And there it is. A something dark on the floor. What is it? Barf? Mouse? Rat? Bird?

Creeping ever closer, you are relived to find it is a feather. A very large feather. But how did it get there?

And where is the REST of the bird?

Did they eat the whole thing? Is it loose and wounded in the house? Are there other piles of feathers and 'stuff' in a different room? Where are the girls anyway?

So you search, room by room, hoping to not find anything that jumps out or wiggles or spreads blood and guts while also needing to discover the source of the feather and deal with it.

Nothing.

Some relief. But not really. Because the feather did belong to someone at sometime.

The last time this happened, we found piles of tiny feathers. No bird. Months later, Mabel managed to scrape out the petrified dehydrated bird from beneath the stove. Can I just say YUCK?

So far, so good.

Let's check back in a few months to see if she pulls something else from beneath the oven.