The Dead Cardinal

“ Le cardinal est mort! This Cardinal flew into our glass door and kilt himself.  We feel inordinately sad over it. Longer Version MoSup was in the kitchen, talking to her friend in Florida and watching the Juncos go nuts over the seed she  placed under the sandbox which, perched on 6" legs,  was somewhat protected from the snowfall. blizzard.  I paid scant attention until my sonar picked up a sudden change in conversational pitch. "I'll call you back." Momentarily she's in the den telling  me that a Cardinal flew into the glass door,  and was laying stunned in the snow.  I said that it was prolly dead, but no.  She said  he was trying to lift his head and weakly cheeping.  By the time I got there, the creature's leg position made it obvious that the little  little guy was dead.  I scooped him up and brought him indoors.  MoSup tried CPR (without the breahting); too late.  I never held a Cardinal before.  Still warm, he was ridiculously light.  Like only feathers; no skeleton. Soft, like a woman's breast on a warm nigh -- I digress. "Throw him over the railing so the other birds don't have to see him." huh? I don't want the other birds to know he's dead.  (She is a saint) I opened the door and gave him a mighty chuck;  but he hit the frame of an old swing with an ahdible whack and dropped all akimbo onto the deck.  He was covered completely by snow in just minutes.  Her reaction?  "You beast!"   Like I did it on purpose. I feel good that I'm still able to feel badly that this Cardinal will no longer entertain us, but he has dozens of pals to keep the show going.   Means I still have humanity (creatureaminty?) left, for innocent creatures anyway.  If Gov. O'Malley ran into my window, I'd revive him with pee. ”