I arrived home from work to find Polly sniffing at the black & white pigeon. The bird was on its back with its feet in the air. Polly was bumping the body with her nose. She looked happy to see me until I shoulted "POLLY YOU MONGREL! BADDOG! BADDOG! Ohh, you bloody... wait until I get hold of you!" The dog sank into the short grass and did a high-speed, belly-on-the-ground slink back to the kennel, where she hid under the blankets.
I sighed as I looked at the bird and quickly ran through the lies I would tell Mum about how the bird "just died" or something. I got a plastic bag to act as a body-bag in the bin, and reached for the bird.
The rat rolled over, stood up and walked out of reach. It growled at me* and wandered into the garden.
I hate these birds. Now I have to make Polly happy. Poor dog.