We saw a dead bird today. Two birds to be honest. The added irony to this was I had the dream two nights ago. A bird dead as could be lay facing up.
It’s white carcass presented itself to the sky. Decapitated. I found my dog to be hiding something in his mouth. This became a tug of war.
Each of us determined. We scuffled. And I think he gave into me while we were in the midst of this entanglement. Discovering we are not who we think we are.
He thought it through perhaps. The manner in which he relinquished validated his predatory nature. I have not seen this side of my dog. He is still a puppy. Sometimes I wonder if he is the spawn of unnatural beasts but that is yet to tell itself.
I won eventually. I suppose. If this is considered a win. I guess.
My dog held the head of the bird in his mouth. Mind you this was his second visit to the beach.
Sometimes he thinks about the bird. I know he does. I wonder what his next target will be. It’s okay.
The summer is young still.
The Literary Misadventures of Cielo 