Mutual of Omaha Presents...

The past few years, around this time, a hawk has visited my backyard. Queen B was the first to spot him two years ago, and, the Man-Cub spied him while home on Christmas break last year, so, when I pulled out of the garage yesterday, I wasn't terribly surprised to see him on the driveway.

Since I managed to catch photos of him each of his previous visits, I figured I better do so again this year, so, I rolled down my window, inched a bit closer, and, started shooting with my phone.

As I got closer, I realized that he was pecking at something on the ground, and, I assumed it was something pretty good since he didn't fly off.

Oh, it was good, all right.

When I got close enough to identify it, I realized that the hawk was pecking at what was left of one of my resident mourning doves.

That rat bastard ATE one of my doves. One of my sweet, cooing, never-hurt-anyone feathered friends. What kind of monster does that (if you just answered "A bird of prey, Chelle", you are dead to me. Dead.)?!

If I'd wanted to watch an episode of Wild Kingdom, I'd jump in my time machine and flash back to a Sunday night in 1976, grab a TV tray and a Swansons chicken dinner and have at it. But, even then, I'd just be killing time until The Wonderful World of Disney came on, I mean, honestly! I don't like watching the food chain in action, never have, never will, and; I certainly didn't need to see it play out with one of my imaginary pets as the victim.

I'm scarred, y'all. Scarred.

Please ignore the serial-killeresque quality of the handwriting in the above picture; 

I was distracted by my trauma