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July 24, 2009
From 7/23

As much as I don't like that the bird is dead, I am happy that it's not partially alive, because there's no way in hell I could finish what my cat started. So, in that sense I am grateful to Shana. I try to tell her this, but she's out back smoking a cigarette and muttering.

Using a dustpan and brush, I transport the bird corpse into the patio, atop a ledge, out of Shana's reach. I am a non-stop stream of "imsorryimsorryimsorryimsorry" and tears. Tomorrow I will decide what to do with the little guy.

Continued 7/25