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Where does every buzzard for miles around sleep, you ask?

A: Every buzzard for miles around sleeps in the huge tree under which we parked the rental truck.

Laura had warned us that we might get "some" droppings if we parked there.

What did we care? "It's a rental," we said.

This is not what we conceived of as "some" droppings.

As we examined the damage and gagged from the smell -- you can imagine what comes out the other end of a bird that eats dead things -- a John Malkovich-looking guy strolled by with his family, paused to survey the situation, and informatively observed: "You parked under the Buzzard Tree."
While Spot wandered around distractedly nibbling on what appeared to be Buzzard furballs (what substance could be so foul as to be indigestible to a buzzard?), Laura apologized for not wording her warning more strongly. But we weren't upset at all. We thought it was funny. I put my hand on Laura's shoulder. "You do realize we don't care, don't you?" "Yeah," she said. "You do realize I have buzzard shit on my hand, don't you?" (Made you look!)

I retrieved messages later in the day, and one from Laura said: "You parked under the Buzzard Tree! You parked under the Buzzard Tree!"