journal 52;

May 13, 2006 23:19

Hedwig laid eight eggs in the end. Seven of them hatched and one died. I think Hedwig knew the bad egg would, though. I suppose things like this happen.

The babies are really soft. The flight feathers are going to start growing in soon. It'll be nice to see them learn how to fly.

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silverfringe May 14 2006, 03:21:48 UTC
Please tell me you haven't got names picked out.

Somehow I already know the answer.

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solitusvir May 14 2006, 03:23:08 UTC
No, but you can help me with them.

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silverfringe May 14 2006, 03:25:48 UTC
One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, and Seven.

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solitusvir May 14 2006, 03:27:44 UTC
Proper names.

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silverfringe May 14 2006, 03:31:07 UTC
I don't know what you're talking about. Those are entirely proper.

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solitusvir May 14 2006, 03:33:37 UTC
Just like Droy is a proper name for you.

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silverfringe May 14 2006, 03:36:18 UTC
I suppose, if we're going to keep up with the trend of names lacking anything that remotely resembles originality and creativity.

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solitusvir May 14 2006, 03:48:09 UTC
Then help me make up some original and creative ones. They're your owl's kids, too.

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silverfringe May 14 2006, 03:50:11 UTC
That doesn't mean I'm going to sit around and come up with names, Potter. This is ridiculous.

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solitusvir May 14 2006, 03:54:38 UTC
You'll come see them with me at least, won't you?

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silverfringe May 14 2006, 04:00:28 UTC
Do I have to touch them?

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solitusvir May 14 2006, 04:06:06 UTC
You'll probably squish them. You can hold Padfoot.

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silverfringe May 14 2006, 04:12:30 UTC
You're bringing the dog? Happy fucking family? Since when did we become a zoo?

You are going to owe me. So much.

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solitusvir May 14 2006, 04:16:09 UTC
Padfoot's bored inside! I usually take him out with me when I go outside. How would you like to stay in all day for a whole year? And how are owls and one dog a zoo? Besides, we'll probably be losing seven of the owls. You said so yourself, remember.

Fine.

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silverfringe May 14 2006, 04:18:57 UTC
Dogs are supposed to do what you tell them to do, not what they'd like to do. The point is, seven eight nine owls and a dog are far more animals than I'd like to spend an afternoon in the company of.

Five minutes, Potter. Then I'm going back inside. You may continue to bond with the new arrivals if you like.

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solitusvir May 14 2006, 04:25:34 UTC
Padfoot listens to me when I need him to. And you're a spoilsport. It's not like the babies can move from their nest at this stage, anyway.

I'm not owing you anything if it's just five minutes.

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