scavengers

“Why in the name of all that is creative are we using a dirty, crumpled McDonald’s straw as our photo bait today?” Urania cleared her throat and brushed her bangs out of her eyes.

The Muse of Wit had a ready reply. “Because… Typist threw the McDonald’s cup Henny carried home the day before into the trash and she didn’t want to dig for it… so we used today’s straw instead.”

“I love watching Henrietta and Typist negotiate at the stoop. When Typist commands, ‘Drop it,” Hen ignores her. Then when Typist reaches for whatever treasure the fourleg has between her molars Henny turns her head with skillful evasive measures. It’s funny!” said Cal.

“What’s NOT funny is that we could have had a photo of not one, but two, two!… majestic eagles perched on the branches of a leafless tree. If only Typist had brought her camera along on the river paddle,” Nia sighed. “Did you notice that one raptor was significantly larger than the other?”

“We did!” Cal and Tal nodded.

“I’ve been wondering if they were mates, or perhaps a parent with an eaglet?” Nia continued.

“It says here on the National Wildlife Federation site that the bald eagle is a classic icon of strength, courage, and freedom. The raptors are monogamous… so maybe they were mates? And they LOVE fish, but will also scavenge for carrion.” Thalia read over Typist’s shoulder.

“Remember the time Henny dropped a dead mouse on the carpet? A scavenger that doesn’t eat her treasures. She’s a funny one,” said Cal. “A-muse for the Muses.”