A tale of two pheasants

Rusty waits for his breakfast. Let’s hope he doesn’t end up on someone’s Christmas dinner table.
A few years ago ( I think I blipped it at the time) another pheasant used to come to our garden and I would feed it.
Then one day a neighbour appeared at the door clutching a dead bird.
I am horrified. Could it be?...
“I hear you like pheasants,” he said holding it out as a present for me. It is Christmas after all.
Yes …… but not dead ones.”
“This one flew straight into our living room window. Neck broken.”
We stood looking at the feathered carcass.
“Don’t you want it?”
“No…” I am struggling to find something to say without wishing to offend a neighbour.
How can I tell him I couldn’t possibly eat a bird I regarded as a pet?
“What can I do with it?”
“Maybe bury it “I suggest hoping it would at least have the dignity of a ritual burial  after its sudden departure from this world.
“Can’t be bothered with that. I’ll just throw it in the dustbin.”
He turned and walked away, the dead bird dangling on the ground. It’s tailfeathers skimming the drive. 

PS. Covid and flu vaccinations: I had mine today at our local pharmacy. 

The pharmacist says she  had a doctor in earlier who couldn’t get a vaccination in his hospital because all slots were filled and there was an upsurge of patients admitted with flu so he thought he had better get vaccinated.