Last weekend, somebody broke into the home aviary of a local woman whom my wife has known for years and stole nearly one hundred of her birds. Nice going, scumbags—you’re a real class act. We’re talking about an 85 year old woman who has absolutely nothing except her birds. Just the birds and that old dilapidated mobile home you violated. Even if they catch your sorry asses, the probability that she’ll get every last one of them back alive is virtually zero. I hope they reserve a special place in Hell for you. She really did offer free wing and nail clippings on the weekends—my wife has taken her African Grey to her many times. She’s also boarded her bird at June’s house several times, too. So it could have been my wife’s bird you stole, slimeballs, in which case you had better get down on your hands and knees and pray to God that I don’t find out who you are, because if I did, when I get done with you you’d be glad that there is such a thing as higher authorities.
Sorry for rambling. I’m a little hung over right now, and I don’t write well when I am. Just needed to vent about a particularly despicable brand of criminal.
No, June wasn’t home when it happened. She was at the local feed store, donating her services as she has been doing for years. I have a suspicion that it was somebody who knew her, and knew that she would be at the feed store. In fact, I think I may have figured out a way to set a trap for these clowns.