The first sound she heard that morning was a squawk and what sounded like a sneeze from the neighbor's cat.
Just a little while later, and then out of nowhere, a flapping sound came from somewhere in the house and the air was filled with feathers.
It was a crow. That was unmistakable. There were at least half a dozen of them, flying around the garage and coop. They had created a nest of garbage bags, and threads from her favorite outdoor rug. Several feet away, behind the giant RV, the dogs were starting to bark at the racket.
"What's going on in here?" yelled Gab, pounding on the screen door. "What's going on?"
The crow who had been the source of the screech came out, flew straight at the screen door, and with a flap of her wings, something came out of the side door. What was it? A little chicken maybe? Whatever it was, it was so small and thin that it quickly scuttled away under the RV.
Gab was starting to feel overwhelmed. Why now? Why now, with these things? And why had no one called the police? Who knew that a rabid crow had taken up residence in Chik-fil-A, almost a block away from her?