Friday, June 29, 2012

A Bird In the Hand


Calling someone "birdbrain" is an insult for low intelligence.  There is a reason for this expression.  Two days ago an errant woodpecker (a hairy or a downy) flew into our garage.  Bad mistake.  The bird cruised around the rafters, totally ignoring the fact that we had the door Wide Open and he/she could fly down and out with ease.
No such luck.
I called the Audubon Society who suggested that we tie some cloth or paper to a long pole and try to scare him into flying down and then taking a broom and whisking him out.
No such luck.
This morning, bird was still in garage.  Two our of three cats made an escape and both or them immediately realized: Loose bird in garage!  The older one lost interest, but the mostly grown kitten thought "cat toy!" and climbed into the rafters, stalking the bird.  At one point, he flew low and before I could wield the broom, he swooped up again.  Dumber than dirt.  Kitten refused to be dissuaded.  We had errands to run, dentist appt., etc., so left kitten in the garage with food, water and litter.  When we returned home, she was asleep on the floor next to the litter, and the bird was still, have you guessed it yet?  Up on the rafters.
Dragged kitten into house.  Did she even want back into garage!  She finally fell asleep on her window perch.  A few hours later I shut the garage door again.
Checked later and did not hear/see woodpecker.  He is either skulking, dead or finally figured it out.  We put some water out for him.
Garage is full of son's belonging, a huge mess, if you will, with "stuff" all over the floor.  Rafters full of broken window screens and  oldposters, tires, lots of crap.  Plenty of places for a bird to hide.

I am worried about the poor critter and annoyed that it has, well, a birdbrain.  Life in suburbia has its little dramas.  Baby bunny on the lawn.  More cat toys.  Cat seems exhausted.

So am I.


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