This morning I was trying to lay the babies down for their naps and Dakota was going crazy. I wish I could say that his barking was a rare occurrence that signified something out of sorts. But alas, this simply isn't true. He barks all the time. He still hasn't figured out that Sergeant Rick next door actually belongs there, and that its okay if Sergeant Rick walks around his own yard. We've lived next to Rick for over four years now.
However, this morning the bark was incessant, and I couldn't figure out why he was continuing with his shenanigans. One look out our office window, and this is what I see.
Turkey vultures are big, and eat road kill. When we first moved here they amazed me at their ability to pick clean an entire deer carcass in twelve hours. And as gross as they look (they remind me of characters from Alice in Wonderland) and as big as they are (literally the size of turkeys) they get the job done.
It amazes me that God even had the yucky details of our world figured out. He even made the turkey vultures. And I'm thankful He did, otherwise we'd have a big mess of road kill to clean up.
Now if only I could get Dakota to stop barking at them.