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Well there's a dead wattle bird sitting on our back porch. They're a type of honeyeater, and are always so loud and entertaining, they look like this

Here i am at 8:30 in the morning, hanging up my clothes, and there is a great big THUMP at the front of the house. Which wakes up my father (yes i know, he should already be awake) and i go out to inspect and see this little thing on the ground. There's no external injuries and by the time i put him/her around the back porch its eyes have closed up, but it's still warm and a bit floppy. I put it on one of the canvas chairs out of the sun, in the hopes it may still be ok, maybe in shock, but i doubt it. Charlie has not been that close to a bird in at least 6 months so he woke up straight away and was sniffing about excitedly.

The weird thing is, i didn't feel sad. I usually do. But not since this whole councelling thing that my emotions have been askew.

It's a pity though that birds have this affinity for flying into glass, i heard it was because they have black/white vision, so they don't understand it is a solid surface and the reflections confuse them.

Anyway, enough sad news. I'm off to forage and make some pizza from scratch. I hope everyone has a better day than i've had so far.

Did i mention yesterday there were huge gusts of wind, and the main chook pen at Tristans house got smashed by a big honking tree? Ever picked up a chicken in mid lay?