At approximately 9:36 p.m., our doorbell rang. The gong sounded more ominous than usual. Aaron answered the door. "We heard you have our bird!" a deep voice said.
The man followed Aaron into the study to identify our feathered friend. "Yes. That's him," he said gruffly.
"Him? Her name is Hannah!" I shouted in my head, already envisioning how I was going to break this sad news to the kids in the morning.
Goodbye, Hannah. Goodbye bird poop. Goodbye happy children.
The bird done flew the coop!