Today we were playing out in the garden and there was a little baby bird sitting on top of the pool cover. It couldn't fly - it could only go across the pool cover. Aston saw it and tried to get at it. He ran round the pool and attempted to go on the cover but he doesn't like the feel of it beneath him. Finally the bird (who we couldn't see a way to help) managed to get off the pool and onto the area surrounding it. Aston was there in a flash, before any of us could get him. He scooped the bird up into his mouth and ran away. Andrew and I both tried to get him, but we couldn't. I ran inside and grabbed some treats to try and get him to drop it but he refused. I scattered a ton of them on the ground and he didn't care. Finally we realized that the bird was no longer in his mouth. He had completely eaten it.
Needless to say, we wouldn't let him give us kisses for the rest of the night. I gave him a Kong with some puppy toothpaste in so that his breath wouldn't stink. I now vacillate between calling him "Killer" and "My little murderer."
I was less than pleased with him and I'm not looking forward to tomorrow when the bird will have gone through his system (ew!).
Does this look like the face of a killer? Well it is!
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