The Puppinator - aka "Snuff Doggy Dog"
The birds went absolutely crazy outside the office window this morning. A whole bunch of them. I thought it must be some sort of bizarre mating ritual, or a fight among the blue jays. Arnie was outside, but his involvement didn't even cross my mind as the area of the yard by the office is blocked off to his roaming at the moment. Or so I thought.
Awhile later, I realized I'd left the kid outside and should probably bring him in. I noticed that the temporary "blockade" to the aforementioned area of the backyard was ajar and he was way too quiet. As I peered around the corner, I saw the little assassin with a bird (dead) in his mouth. He put it down as soon as he saw me (unlike his deceased brother, Max, would have done) and came trotting into the main yard. He looked entirely too smug, however, with a tiny feather attached to his lower lip (reminded me of the old Sylvester the Cat cartoons, just after he's chomped down on Tweety Bird). I don't know if the kid actually managed to catch and kill the bird, or if the bird was a young'un on a training mission and had an unfortunate encounter with the fence. Regardless, the other birds were not happy with Arnie.
I brought him in - he appeared entirely too proud of himself - and went to the store. When I got back, he went outside again, and the birds started their angry chatter. Without thinking, I yelled out the back door, "Arnie! Inside! The birds don't like you. You're a murderer."
The things we say to our kids. He appears to be completely unscarred by the comment . . .