Good morning readers. For two days now the sky and trees the other side of the meadow have been filled with Democrat buzzards and Republican vultures fighting over the carcass of Brother Coon.
Both groups find him palatable, but each doing its own part to tear him down into fragments of truth they can convert within their buzzard realities into savory, self-serving rhetoric. Watching it all was fun for a while, them pushing and shoving off the tree limbs and chasing one another away on the ground when a choice morsel emerged from the pile of goo.
By now old Brother Coon’s probably been released to the public, one way or another, so hopefully the show’s over. Not much of him left in the meadow, anyway. Even for buzzards the shelf-life on a carcass isn’t that long in all this heat. Whatever’s left the fireants will take care of quickly. Might wander out there later to see if I can gather up some teeth for a necklace or a watch-fob.