I have this bird that sleeps on my porch every night. He's left quite a mess on top of the window ledge. I don't have the heart to clean it off because if I do he might not come back. I showed him to my friends one night as they were leaving and they suggested I put up a bird cage. I don't want to do that either because he might see it as a trap and leave me forever. So I just let him come and go as he pleases and sleep in his crap. I guess that's OK with birds.
Every night before bed I check to see if he has safely tucked himself in. One night he wasn't there. I first felt sad that he had left me then my thoughts turned to worry that maybe he was hurt or worse. I also thought that maybe he had found a girlfriend. I don't really know why I think of this wren as a male, it just seems that females might stick together to protect their little eggs. I do think he's a wren because of his long, curved beak. I also thought that maybe the hawks may have attacked him. I love those hawks but I think it's mean that they attack other birds. Stick to the mice, I say. I was so happy to see him back the next night.
My husband and I were driving past a dairy the other day and I noticed that the birds were sitting on the fence not a foot from the cows. In fact, some of the birds were sitting on top of the cows. I said to Jeff, "How do birds know not to be afraid of cows?" "If that were a person they would all fly away." Jeff just said "I dunno." The thought occured to me just how many different kind of birds we eat. Turkey, chicken, quail, duck, goose and so on. They have reason to be afraid of us. That reminds me of a story my mom loves to tell.
She grew up on a farm and, of course, they had chickens and roosters. One chicken in particular was mean as can be. My mom was out playing in the yard and that chicken started pecking her. She turned and ran toward the house and the chicken ran after her pecking the backs of her legs. My grandmother heard her screaming and flew out of the door. She saw what was happening and when that chicken got close she grabbed it by the neck and twisted it in the air and needless to say, that was dinner. My grandma always said a prayer before every meal and I like to picture it going something like this. "Dear Lord we give thanks for this bounty. Thank you for this chicken that nearly pecked my daughter to death!!!!! Thank you for giving me the strength TO RING ITS BLASTED NECK..............." And after a long pause she irons out the wrinkles in her apron with her hands and calmly says "amen."
Every night before bed I check to see if he has safely tucked himself in. One night he wasn't there. I first felt sad that he had left me then my thoughts turned to worry that maybe he was hurt or worse. I also thought that maybe he had found a girlfriend. I don't really know why I think of this wren as a male, it just seems that females might stick together to protect their little eggs. I do think he's a wren because of his long, curved beak. I also thought that maybe the hawks may have attacked him. I love those hawks but I think it's mean that they attack other birds. Stick to the mice, I say. I was so happy to see him back the next night.
My husband and I were driving past a dairy the other day and I noticed that the birds were sitting on the fence not a foot from the cows. In fact, some of the birds were sitting on top of the cows. I said to Jeff, "How do birds know not to be afraid of cows?" "If that were a person they would all fly away." Jeff just said "I dunno." The thought occured to me just how many different kind of birds we eat. Turkey, chicken, quail, duck, goose and so on. They have reason to be afraid of us. That reminds me of a story my mom loves to tell.
She grew up on a farm and, of course, they had chickens and roosters. One chicken in particular was mean as can be. My mom was out playing in the yard and that chicken started pecking her. She turned and ran toward the house and the chicken ran after her pecking the backs of her legs. My grandmother heard her screaming and flew out of the door. She saw what was happening and when that chicken got close she grabbed it by the neck and twisted it in the air and needless to say, that was dinner. My grandma always said a prayer before every meal and I like to picture it going something like this. "Dear Lord we give thanks for this bounty. Thank you for this chicken that nearly pecked my daughter to death!!!!! Thank you for giving me the strength TO RING ITS BLASTED NECK..............." And after a long pause she irons out the wrinkles in her apron with her hands and calmly says "amen."
1 comment:
hahaha! honestly, Shelly, this is priceless!!!!!!!!
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