This Summer, Crandall's Life is One Giant Frat Party. I've Forgotten the Energy and Spunk of 20 Year Olds.

After a day of cleaning the house, writing, prepping for the week, beach volleyball, and breaking fast with cheeseburgers, Abu and I found one of our house sparrows on the back porch -- poor critter wasn't so lucky. We decided we should serve it to Lossine for dinner.

Actually, we had a mini-burial for the little guy, but not before we decided to bring it to Lossine who was playing video games.

His face said it all.

I wonder what the fledgling was thinking. More than likely, he was waiting for his mother to return with some grub and grew a little anxious in his nest, adventuring 300 feet up on Mt. Pleasant. That's when I'm guessing he fell.


I was impressed by Lossine's reaction, though. He didn't enjoy seeing the bird and we told him he's lucky we didn't barbecue it for him and serve it in a hot dog bun (note: I would never do that).

What I would do is say a Kirsten Perra, "Bless that animal," and send him into the woods, which I did. Death is never fun to encounter (unless it is a mosquito...I don't mind slapping them to their demise).

And I feel bad. I've been cursing the sparrows in my house and how they've taken over all the eaves. They've become part of the routine of the address and so knowing one of their babies didn't make it is just sad. I also noticed that I didn't see the parents return to the nest, either, making me wonder if they suffer loss and leave their residence when such a tragedy occurs.

So, I think this week's flight must be dedicated to our lost friend who never had a chance at learning to fly, scratching for worms, or building a home for himself.

(and I will forever love this photo of the imp-twin)