No, no, no!

Four squirrels. Not one. Four. (Or possibly rats. I'm just going by the long skeleton tails.) Apparently I was running a squirrel-killing machine out there and didn't realize it.

Sorry! So sorry. And if there's a squirrel hell, I'm in big trouble.

I went looking because Andy came back in the house last night crunching on something unspeakable. When I told him to drop it (thank God he obeyed) and I looked at it, I could see what appeared to be loosely-connected little forearm bones. Ick. It was lying on the living room carpet, and I told the dogs something to the effect of there not being enough noes in the world to make them understand what I meant.

So now, a revolting half hour later, all (I hope) the squirrel remains are in their plastic bag coffins (or, I guess, Kroger body bags), awaiting transport to their final resting place, i.e., trash day. Again, I'm very sorry, feel terrible about it, and have learned my lesson about leaving open containers out in the rain. Won't happen again.

In the meantime, I concentrating on the circle of life. And I may stop buying birdseed, too. Ick.