Forensics on the Fly

One of the adventurous games no one prepares you for when you become a bird owner: Where is the blood coming from?
Ugh.
This morning I was cleaning the boys’ bath in the kitchen sink and noticed a smear of fresh blood on the counter. So, I quickly put on my forensic analyst hat and started figuring out who is bleeding. The smear had what looked like a partial fingerprint in it. My hands aren’t (currently) bleeding. Forearms? No. Elbows? No. Mom? No. Start looking for birds who, of course, do NOT want to cooperate. Nothing obvious and no other spots where they have been. Then I remember I randomly get nosebleeds for no apparent reason. No.
Look at the spot again. It is now dry. So it was a fresh drop of blood because it was still wet when I first saw it.
I have no idea. I hope it was me. The birds are itchy and sneezy, but they all have now had a fresh bath, and I am hoping that helps them. I have not seen any more spots anywhere. That’s good. Not knowing where it came from doesn’t sit well.

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