You were the perfect gentlemen on the way to Colin and Sofya’s place in the south end (their O’Brian deserved his fate, relatively speaking, what with his non-stop aggressive mating). Not an impatient squawk or fight in the small cage; just a cockadoodledoo or two, the reason it had to come to this. Perhaps you believed me when I told you we were going to the fall fair early, that you needed to be hung upside down to calm you down before judging.
You didn’t feel the razor-sharp Henkel opening your jugular or, if you did, you didn’t seem to mind. Your eyes slowly opened and closed as though you were trying to understand something, while the life drained from you. Only the last beats of your heart and the involuntary flapping of your irridescent black and green wings – after you had lost consciousness – were reminders of your previous vitality.
March 1, 2010 — July 19, 2010. RIP. Handsome in life and tasty on the plate.