Red-Tail Hawks

They get bored, moody, resentful. The negative anthropomorphisms apply, the positive ones don't. They never liked you. They never liked anyone except their mate, and when you trap them by definition they haven't had one yet. They run off their young months before Arcturus sinks on their first summer. They get electrocuted, shocked, hit by cars, and shot by dumbasses. If you free loft them in their mews they bounce off the wall when they hear you coming - sometimes damaging tail feathers. They projectile shit, mutes it is called, and you get sick of warning people not to stand behind them. Throw them in the direction of the tallest tree and they'll land on a fencepost. They'll make a fool of you in front of your friends, land on your head, try to kill your dog. It's sublime watching them soar, but there are the times they run along the ground with all the ignominy of a dirt farm chicken. They sleep with their heads craned back into their wings, looking almost headless. They can't see any better than us in the dark, but watching them like that you know they don't dream. They have nightmares.