Tail feathers

A warm spring day....the sun shining through the picture window in the kitchen and onto the kitchen table, where my kids are sitting...enjoying an afternoon snack. Very serene. I see that they are occupied and content and round the corner to straighten the living room whilst my little tornadoes are distracted in a moment of culinary bliss. Just as I knelt to collect a lone sock I heard a sound that sounded as if one of my kids had body-slammed the window, and in a nano-second ran through the possibilities (Cohen...negative. He is secured in his high chair and is a wee 11 months old. Rylie...nahhh. Doesn't possess the speed or trajectory for that noise.)As the adrenaline surged through my body, I entered the kitchen and quickly assessed my surroundings as my heart pounded. Whew! Kids still in place and intact. But wait....what is that running, no, OOZING down my kitchen window!?! Rylie could only look at me in horror and shudder as she murmured something incomprehensible with a look of someone who may need therapy in the future for what she just witnessed. Cohen just kept munching his graham cracker. Upon further inspection, I saw a few feathers had adhered to the window and realized that one not-so-lucky fowl just went to the big coop in the sky right before my children's eyes. Not only that, but it looked as if it pretty much exploded on impact with my window. Gross. After getting a few details...Me:"Rylie what did you see?" Rylie:"It was big...feathers...grey..." I went outside to see what might be left of the victim. You know that feeling you get if you think a bug or even a mouse is going to run across your shoe or even in your general vicinity? That is how I am with fluttery birds. Don't like that. I braced myself and rounded the house, looked up and gave Rylie a little wave and a half-hearted-mommy-is-brave smile. My chest tightened as I approached the crash site and I didn't see anything. Whew, again. I turned to look for the hose to wash off the remains and there a few feet away was a LARGE grey bird, face down. Nope, not going NEAR that. If it moved I might have a spasm and I don't think my daughter needs to witness two traumatizing events in one afternoon. I did the only thing I could. I called Stewart. What a good husband:) He came home after work and took care of the bird, which turns out was a pretty sizable dove who was missing part of his face. I know where he could find the rest of it....Jeez!