Life is as Fragile as a Whisper

I feel like the grim reaper. While out in the backyard with my dog, Darla, I saw the new little mockingbird baby sitting on the fence at ground level. I managed to snap a photo of it long before Darla ever saw it. Then I distracted Darla so she wouldn’t notice it and the mother bird would have a chance to draw it away from the fence. When I went back to the same spot it was gone. Knowing she had two babies I searched all over the area to make sure it hadn’t come on over into our yard. As I was doing that I heard a little squeak at the far end of the yard in the corner where Darla had gone. I was heartbroken knowing that Darla had discovered either the little one that I had just petted or possibly the other baby that I hadn’t seen before. Either way she was curious and either grabbed it with her mouth (she is a hound) or pawed at it and broke its little neck. I gently picked it up hoping it wasn’t too late but it was. The poor little one took its last breath in my hand as its mother watched from above. Why did she have to make her nest in the tree that was so close to my yard?! She knew about the dog. Maybe I should have titled this, Life is about Choices.