According to my memories, we had a children’s book about a teeny tiny woman who finds a random bone, decides it would make great soup, and brings it home. That night a disembodied voice demands, “I want my bone back.” This keeps happening until the freaked out teeny-tiny woman tosses the bone into the night and shrieks something like, “Here’s your bone!” After investigating Goodreads, I think I found the edition with the artwork I remember. It turns out that this is a folktale and that in some versions, she finds the bone laying around in a graveyard.
I might be the not so teeny-tiny woman.
Last night something disturbing- mostly to the cats, partly to me- was outside. Birdie let out a moaning yowl that at first I thought was coming from the horror/sci fi show I was watching. She bodily smacked into the front door in a puffed ball of calico fierceness. I reached for the porch light, but was thinking, “There’s something on the other side of the door!”
I saw nothing. The Bird and I looked out the windows together, but nothing materialized. She deflated after much trembling and tenseness. Later something squealed outside which sent Olivia flying to a window after she had spent an hour on the top cat shelf staring at the ceiling.
Shit, we’re surrounded.
I don’t know if our night time visitor was looking for his teeny-tiny bone, but this morning I was greeted to the sound of teeth on bone. The squirrel was busily gnawing on his bone loud enough to hear it inside the house. It’s definitely not a sound to drink your coffee to. Kind of nature’s equivalent of nails on a chalkboard. Slightly gag reflex inducing.
I should probably find some ways to curb our nightly backyard visitors who have clearly made entrances for themselves under the fence. They like the bird seed under the feeders, the grubs they seem to think populate my yard, and I am guilty of tossing out things like failed biscuits for the birds and squirrel. However, if they don’t take care of it during the day, it becomes a night time treat.
In other less appalling backyard business, I caught this sparrow /finch? busily destroying my already crappy hanging basket. At least I’m contributing to a nest.