*Squish*

I was distracted on my walk to school to pick up the kidlets. I'll admit that. I was busy staring at the eyesore of a new duplex that is being constructed a block away from the school. For the life of me, I cannot fathom why a construction company would build a house of any kind on an empty lot when there are oodles of vacant houses already in our town.

It took me a while before I could tear my eyes off of that monstrosity of a new building. Sadly, what brought my attention back to my walk was a rather disgusting squish coming from underneath my left shoe. I immediately prayed that I had not just stepped in dog poop.

When no telltale smell greeted me, I dared to look down to see what I had just squashed. I thought perhaps it was someone's dropped breakfast or lunch. Every so often, I see that sort of thing on the sidewalk. It's what happens when people are trying to walk and eat at the same time, and generally while on the cell phone or texting. Unfortunately, it appears it was actually a feral cat's lunch. I could not tell what small animal it was, but it was obvious that it was no longer among the living.

I was torn between crying and puking. Thankfully, the two wound up cancelling each other out, and I walked as fast as I could away from the poor, dead creature. I've seen a dead mouse or two along that particular stretch of sidewalk, so I am assuming some cat either lives in one of the houses nearby or is a stray who prefers to play with its food rather than eat it. The remains of that tiny animal were off near the construction taking place, so I assumed it was only a matter of minutes before one of the construction vehicles would cover it up with mud.

The situation did not improve upon picking up the kidlets from school. On the walk back, a group of twenty or so kidlets stood clustered around something. This was not where I had misstepped, so I made the mistake of looking to see what was holding their attention. It was five or so baby birds that were either already dead or close to it. Someone found them on the sidewalk, not too far away from another dead bird that looked like it had been squashed, and several of the boys were trying to move them to underneath a nearby bush in the hopes it would offer them some protection.

I'm not sure what's worse: the thought that I accidentally killed a baby bird or the thought that I accidentally killed their momma bird. Instead of praying for a lack of dog poop, I find myself now praying that I was not the one who took that life. I really, truly hope it had been someone's cat who made that kill, or an accidental fall from a nest, or some such other tragedy. I feel so guilty. I'm so sorry, little birdie.