We were all out on the back porch enjoying a delicious dessert of sweet buttermilk biscuits with lemon curd, berries and cream after a belated birthday dinner with a friend, when I heard Lily at the door. Because I will apparently never learn, I forgot to do the all important poultry check before opening the door. Before I knew it, she had rushed into the house with a newly dead sparrow. Then, after much running, hiding and making it abundantly clear that she was not going to give it up without a fight, she proceeded to eat half of it (the top half, to be exact). Eventually, all that was left were some feathers, the aforementioned beak half and my growing disgust. I don't know what is worse - that my dog is a super gross or that I can love her as much as I do despite her deviance.