Not the best day for little beasts

Had a terrible day today, regarding small animals – I buried three baby creatures, two fawns and a bird. Dad asked me to see to remains he found in the vineyard, which I went to bury respectfully in the forest, only so that mum and sis found another dead fawn, evidentially a twin, later on as well. Since I examined the tiny body and there were no signs of gnawing, only a broken neck, it puzzled me when dad said he heard them crying in the night. Poor guy didn’t sleep at all, looking for the fawn in the tall grasses, worried the dogs might find it first. I did not have the heart to tell him he heard right, but one was already dead. Mum and sis thought dogs or foxes undug mine and dragged it around, so they gave it an Indian funeral, burning it, but my sister being my sister, using only a tiny pyre, instead of thoroughly dealing with remains, made an excellent roast. If dogs couldn’t smell the fawns, which are odourless to protect themselves from wildlife on the rim, they certainly could now. So, I dug that one as well. And when I was leaving the house, I saw that a small naked bird has fallen out of the nest in the drain and died. I thought, seriously, what the fuck is it with fledglings today?!