I honestly don’t know what the thing floating in my birdbath is, but it reminds me of meatloaf.
Specifically, it reminds me of the special meatloaf pan I bought, with the little rack inside so the drippings drain off, like that’s supposed to be a good idea. It’s meatloaf, not health food. Just let the juices jell up around it like an American. Yes, it’ll gag a vegan, but they aren’t going to be any happier about your slightly less fatty meatloaf. And the point is, that pan is a total bitch to clean.
Which is why this floating thing reminds me of it.
Seems like every few days I need to clean out the rat repository. Oh, it seemed like a good idea when I bought it. They marketed it as a “birdbath.” But the only thing birds are doing with it is dropping in dead rats. I assume that’s how they get in there, unless the local rat population is doing a Jonestown number all on its own. Certainly the crows enjoy taking everything on their menu—and damn near anything could be on their menu—and disgustinating the birdbath with it. Rats seem too heavy for crows to lift but maybe they aren’t before they get soggy.
Anyway I know for sure the first two were rats, but this new one might actually be a meatloaf. “Mammal” is as far as I’ve definitively gotten. It no longer has a front end, and no exhaust system either. All we have is a moist chassis. I have been poking it with a very long stick and there is no tail in evidence.
I am somewhat familiar with corvid cuisine. Your basic crow will happily choose one from columns A, B, and C, and then head on over to the Cyrillic alphabet for more. They’ll eat any old thing. Some things are good, like Dave’s leftover sandwich. But all in all they are blechivores. And all of it ends up in the Rat Rinsing Station.
But even crows do not, I believe, tend to start things off by eating the head and the tail. There’s probably a specialized rat tail maggot that goes to town on such things. What eats the crunchy head and rubbery tail and leaves the chewy middle? Perhaps, one wonders, this thing never had much of a tail. Perhaps it is not a rat. Perhaps it is a juvenile capybara.
Sure, plenty of people will confidently rule out capybara, due to their scarcity in the urban Pacific Northwest. But I have a well-developed sense of both hyperbole and hysteria and baby capybara stays in the running until someone proves otherwise.
But Murr. Capybaras are good swimmers. They have slightly webbed toes. That, there, looks like a rat foot.
Sure. They’re very good swimmers. This one clearly was not. This one was dead in a birdbath. Blame the toes, if you will.
Now comes the news that three capybaras—Doubao, Bazong, and Duoduo—have escaped from the Zhuyuwan Scenic Area in Yangzhou City, China. I have heard a lot of people can’t find their own Bazong with two hands, but he and Duoduo have been recovered. Doubao remains at large. I believe we have found our carcass source.
That’s ridiculous. That wayward capybara was in China.
Sure. And they’re supposed to be in South America. You already mentioned they’re good swimmers. Don’t tell me they can’t get around.
But Doubao is an adult capybara. This thing in your birdbath is eight inches, tops.
Anchor baby. Bank on it.
I’m no expert, but that foot looks distinctly rat-like. Crows aren’t the only omnivores who may be leaving you these “gifts.” Raccoons perhaps? Or feral cats? Bruce would probably be able to determine who the killer was.
Oh! Raccoon! That would make very good sense since they are such assiduous washers of their food. Back before rats and house finch virus ended the bird feeding here I used to find the bird bath full of dirt and bird seed after a raccoon’s visit.
Yaaaasss! We solved the mystery! Just like Law and Order! Ka-kung!
No we didn’t! The crows are totally eating these things! I did find out that crows are apparently capable of taking down live rats. Which I did not know. I am hoping they are not scooping up poisoned rats.
Morning, Murr!
To your question what eats the head and the tail, but leaves the middle (paraphrased), it is fairly common for carnivores to start with the head. Brains are a good source of calories. No idea why they’d also eat the tail unless they felt a strong need for calcium. My guess is your crows interrupted a cat’s meal.
Your question about their lifting ability is of interest. Crow feet really don’t work as grabbers and lifters. They’re mostly for walking and perching. Then there’s the question of wing loading in terms of how much weight could a crow be expected to lift.
I wonder if your rat dunker isn’t a crow, but maybe a cat. Or another rat.
This sounds like a Monty Python routine from “…Holy Grail”.
But Bruce. Cats are strictly not allowed in my yard. I’ve explained it to all the neighborhood cats. Might you be suggesting they are naughty and willful?
Can’t you write about prettier things than dead rats and shriveled vaginas? The ladies at my senior center recently had a tea, and it was lovely with the finger sandwiches and tea cakes. You should host a tea.
I haven’t been invited back after the last tea.
Who eats the head? Norwegians, that’s who. They have a frightful dinner called Smalahove. Do not google it, or you will see something slightly more disgusting than Murr’s rat thing. Gotta go now. See you next week if I’m done gagging
Oh you’re right. I have written numerous times about Norwegian cuisine but I have not run into this. And these are my people.
A buddy of mine ate and cooked his way around the world. Also did environmental work and a lot of camping. Anyway, he had a very adventurous palate, but said that Norwegian food was disgusting.
Of course I had to look up Smalhove. I wonder if it inspired the cover of the Rolling Stones’ vinyl “Goat’s Head Soup.” I’d eat that (the smalhove, not the Stones’ vinyl — damn those antecedents) before I’d eat lutefisk. I think. The pictures of lutefisk are not as icky as the descriptions of it that I’ve read, though. But I digress.
Butter is their only saving grace.
In the past month, I’ve picked up the remains of two rats adjacent to our birdbath. Definitely the work of crows. We no longer leave the birdbath available to the nocturnal raccoons who knocked over the basin and broke it. We’re reduced to using a terra cotta planter tray instead. The crows also like to soften their bagels in it.
Now that everyone mentions it, I haven’t seen a raccoon here in a few years. OR an opossum. Usually they take turns showing up.
Well, there’s a woman and her dog that live about half a mile from here (SE Portland, close in), on my bicycle route to the studio (closer in). She and her dog were attacked and mauled by a rabid raccoon only last summer. Both recovered. Dog was more severely injured, as he was trying to protect her, but dog was previously vaccinated against rabies, whereas human had to get vaccinated. The raccoon was NOT apprehended.
Buddy of mine was mauled by a rabid racoonlet several years ago. He was photographing insects and this thing ran up and started biting him. Well, not quite. He probably was trying to swat it as it was his hand that got chewed up.
He fell into a lake trying to escape and drowned his camera. Rest in piece, dear camera. Rabies shots and a ton of stitches for himself.
Oh ugh. Racoons I hate cuz, sell, just cuz one tore up the underside of my porch and it cost 2,000 bucks to clean up the mess and sanitize again the worms in their feces that is so bad for humans. Rats give me automatic revulsion just like our big chief USA rat.
Is there anyway you could send along that foot? I need it for a piece of sculptural wool felt art I’m working on. Thanks in advance, Murr.
I’m pretty sure it could slide on over there by itself at this point.
My birdbaths are filled with soil, there are supposed to be flowers as well, but every creepy thing out there ate those as soon as the seeds germinated.
And cats CAN be naughty and wilful, rules mean nothing to them when they are allowed to live outside.
I once entered a lutefisk eating contest in Ballard, Seattle, on a whim. A “professional” lutefisk gobbler was a bit upset that I signed up before him, taking his slot with my inexperienced palate. Needless to say I lost the contest, but I ate a lot of lutefisk and developed a certain distaste for it. Slimy, but as Douglas Adams might say, “mostly harmless”.
“Developed” a certain distaste for it? Damn. You hard core.
I lived in Washington State for 18 months in a little town that twenty years before I settled there briefly was inhabited mostly by Swedes and Norwegians. The story was that on one side of the street you spoke Swedish and on the other side, Norwegian.
Each spring there was a township festival, called Viking Fest. One of the events was a lutefisk eating contest, also an all you can eat lutefisk dinner at a local church. I managed to avoid both.