Okay, we don't have a cat. Which means some ravenous, blood thirsty, limb-from-limb stripping, totally heartless animal waited until we were asleep to attack this poor defenseless bird in our flower planter. It was all I could do to hold back a bloodcurdling scream after stumbling upon its withering carcass.


How would you like to encounter a scenario like this on your front porch? Definitely not good for the digestive system. Almost eight hours since I first laid eyes on it and I'm still feeling queasy.

Cleanup suggestions, anyone?