Heart
It's what's for dinner.
It’s a strange thing, eating the heart of another animal. Especially a heart about the same size as my own.
When I’m cleaning a bird — a duck or goose, grouse or pheasant — Crosby usually hovers nearby, hoping for a treat. And a bird heart is basically the size of a dog treat. And probably I have that bird to clean because Crosby retrieved it to me, like…
