Digging in

I got up this morning to see that my carefully planted bulbs had been unceremoniously dug up from the planter on the deck outside the back door. Sky got the blame.

Later, after coffee with a friend, I decided to try and replant the bulbs as best I could. I gingerly started to make fresh holes and quickly came up against something solid covered with feathers. Mr Flossmo was called. He plunged his hand into the compost and came out with a rather large headless bird, which must have been the best part of a foot long. It had been completely covered over and hidden from sight until I started digging. Not even on steroids would Sky have been able to catch, kill and bury what we decided might be a pheasant. I can only think it must have been a fox that had caught the bird and buried it for later. What a gruesome business. I apologised to Sky for blaming her. She wanted to know whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty. The sixty-four thousand dollar question now is whether Mr Fox will come back and look for his  buried treasure.