Inch By Inch

Maggie is now moving freely around the living room. First the bum, then the shoulders, then the rest of her. She can be found, after only brief absences on my part, clear across the room from where I left her, chewing on Max's shoes or bits of alphabet letters he left on the floor, the activity blanket a blot on the distant horizon.

The only problem is, she keeps moving backwards. This aggravates her deeply. She will see something she wants to gnaw on or claw at, she will rear up and commence motion, and she will find to her dismay that the desired item has retreated farther instead of coming closer. She can't figure out what she is doing wrong. Is it a sign of inherent evilness in me that I find this so very funny?

In other news, that Godforsaken pigeon is STILL sitting out on my porch. Ian came in to tell me that it had left this morning, but by the time I got up, it was back. This means that, wounded wing or no, it is capable of leaving my life if it chooses. I have considered letting the cats out to scare it away, or devour it in a disgusting and bloody display of problem-solving, but I am worried that it has some sort of disease. Bird flu, or whatever. Meanwhile, while I sit in here and wring my hands, it has pooped on much of our patio. Also, several pieces of the laundry I threw at it yesterday are still scattered around out there, which looks sort of white-trashy. And, I am pretty sure that I read in our apartment newsletter (But how much news could one apartment complex generate? you ask. Enough for an entire monthly newsletter? Surely not! And yet, there is a newsletter every month) that they are conducting outdoor maintenance inspections today through Friday. Will I get in trouble for harboring an illicit pigeon on my patio, even if I swear that I am in no way its ally? Will the inspection be rigorous enough to scare away the dastardly fowl? One can hope. Otherwise, my plan B involves waiting until Max is asleep (because otherwise he will want to help, and he is at least as likely to take the bird's side as he is to take mine) and then chucking more laundry at it.