Friday, March 14, 2008

Wish I was a cat

Birds. I don't hate all of them across the board. Raptors I like a lot. Crows are cool. Hummingbirds are a constant source of amusement for me, as are all tiny birds in general, like wrens. I laugh anytime I see a tiny bird hopping about on the ground, instead of flying.

Pigeons are turds with wings. Seagulls are rat turds with wings, and lazy to boot. Doves are fairly inoffensive, but appallingly stupid.

All of these are allowed to exist in my world. The species I don't want, however, is the nameless little bastard who now infests a dense tree across the street from my house. I don't know what the thing is, as I have never seen it. The internet is of no use, as putting "noisy tiny feathered asshole awake only from 1 AM to 7 AM and singing" returns no useful data, like a wanted poster. If I could get even a general idea as to what it is, I would print some up myself and hang them about the neighborhood. "WANTED DEAD: Flapitus Obnoxius for crimes against the peace."

It might be different if the stupid thing actually sang. But no, all it does is repeat endlessly a series of individual piercing notes, which echo off the school building behind me. And it remains annoyingly silent during daylight. It starts up almost exactly at 1 AM every morning, and continues it's avian version of a Ramones song until 7 am. Yesterday I got home at 3 AM from working Keith Urban, and the little bastard was going full bore with all three of it's mindless notes. So I walked quietly over and stood under the tree he was in, shining my mag lite upwards to try and spot him. Finally I just body checked the tree a few times, and he flew off. Of course I couldn't get out from under the branches fast enough to spot him. I then decided perhaps I should amble back to my house, as even glib and silver-tongued me would have trouble explaining to Sunnyvale PD why I was slamming myself into a tree and shining a light in it at 3AM.

"Drinking officer? Me? Never touch the stuff. The tree thing? Oh I was just putting my trick shoulder back in place. The light? What light? Oh, you mean this lil ol thing?"

If I actually managed to, say, nail the peeping little crap-head with a rock, I would probably feel bad (maybe. Not very) and people would think I was mean or vicious. I do actually like to sleep, ya know....

If I was a cat though, I could wait patiently crouched behind shrubbery. Once the manic thing went into it's mindless noise routine, I could slink across the grass, and slowly work my way up the tree. Once I had spotted the target, a patient wind-up of my bunched up steel spring butt muscles, and a launch! Blammo! Mouth full of bird, air full of feathers, and blessed silence.

I picture further explaining to the Sunnyvale cops why I was up in tree, and why I had a bird in my mouth...

"Murd? Mwhut Murd? Verrs muffing im my mouffe...."

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Everything I've read says that they are either mockingbirds or Northern cardinals. Search for a voice track of both and see if its the same.

Some people suggest luring them away with food, placing it a little further from the spot every night, others suggest cutting the tree down :-)

Elayne

Anonymous said...

Ok, I like this blog the best.
So, you were caught in a TREE with a bird in your mouth? Aren't you getting limber ;)