Nice lunch, out with a friend. Cool restaurant, cold drinks, good conversation, great afternoon.
I arrived home, to be greeted with a message from Thomas, who was gone to work.
"You need to call Animal Control; there's a dead bird in the fir tree".
Where? How far up? Who's "Animal Control"? W-w-w-hat?!
I phoned a number that claimed to be for General Inquiries, under "Environment" in the blue pages.
I was directed to the City Of Prince Albert... and a nice young thing who answered the phone...
"Um... who do I talk to about a dead bird in a tree?"
"Is it on City property, or private property?
"Well... it's probably sort of on the property line... maybe right on the boundary..."
"Because if it's private property, they won't touch it. Only if it's a City tree."
"It's a black bird- a crow- don't they need to test it?" (she said hopefully, remembering last year's West Nile testing project)
"Oh, no. They're not doing that anymore."
"Ah. So... what you're saying is, that I should find a plastic bag... and get it into that... and just throw it away...?"
"Yup. If you can."
"Uh... what if I can't?"
"Phone me back!"
She was so chipper, so cheerful...
So... armed with plastic gloves from a hair coloring kit, the mop and a big WalMart bag, with a smaller grocery bag for back- up... I went dead bird hunting.
Using the mop handle, I was able to knock the bird out of the low branch in which it was trapped.
Using extreme caution, I was able to spread the large plastic bag over the dead bird... almost.
With plastic gloved hands, I was able to push the wings and crusty carcass into the bag and close it up. It felt light, like it had already been cleaned out.
It went into the green bin.
EEEWWW EEEWWW EEEWWW!!!!