Dear little dead bird I found in my backyard this morning,
I’m sorry that you’re dead.
I’m sorry that I only noticed your presence because my dog was chewing on you.
I’m sorry my dog chewed on you and ruffled your feathers a bit.
I’m pretty sure the dog didn’t kill you. I highly doubt that she’d ever be able to catch a bird unless you were old or infirm. You didn’t look too infirm since you were, in fact, quite chubby for a little bird. However, if my dog did kill you, I apologize.
I’m sorry that I didn’t have time to give you a proper send off this morning because I was already late for work.
I’m sorry that I scooped up your little ruffled body in a biodegradable poop bag and threw you in the trash.
I’m sorry that the process of scooping you up in a biodegradable poop bag made me a little queasy.
I’m sorry that I immediately washed my hands with antibacterial soap, but you can never be too careful. I don’t know where you had been, little bird. I didn’t mean to imply that you were infectious.
I’m sorry that you’re dead, little bird.
I’m sorry that my dog was chomping on you.
If it’s any consolation, I thought about you all the way to work. To be honest, it was mostly because I was still a little grossed out by having picked up your dead little body, but I did think of you.
Better luck next time.
The owner of the dog that was chewing on your poor little remains.