Cereal Killer

If I get the bird flu, it's all Blanco's fault.
Here's his mug shot for the line-up: Does this dog look like a killer to you?
Maybe in this mug shot:

See those crazed eyes? The plotting mind. The furrowed brow of dubious concentration?

(He's modeling a baby bootie I made last summer, by the way) No, I did not re-gift it to any of my friends.

So yesterday I caught Blanco in the act. The act of killing a bird. It was awful. Traumatic. The little bird didn't stand a chance. I prayed to Jesus to let that poor, tortured little birdie soul enjoy the big sky up there in the Big Sky.

So this week, Blanco has gone both Benedict Arnold and Hannibal Lecter. Who knows what he'll come up with next.

Actually, the bird dying is not completely Blanco's fault. The little tweeter must have come from the family living at the top of our chimney and left the nest and rolled down the roof to the back yard. Not sure if he would have survived the fall minus being munched on by his whiteness.

I thought my DH would be impressed this Blanc's primal hunting instincts had come out in a major way. He just thought it was gross. Oh well.

Obviously, life is pretty boring in our little hacienda if the dog going into attack mode is the most interesting thing happening.

I've somewhat unpacked our lives from boxes, but now it just feels like I have two households worth of coffee mugs and hand towels struggling to coexist. If I had more energy/stuff/sheer will I would have a garage sale. Don't know that it's worth it to sell off 6 coffee mugs and a set of towels. Do you think a charity would want my coffee mugs?

We have a weekend coming up, so perhaps something exciting will transgress. Who knows. . .