You can’t make this kind of shit up and it was crap. All over the window sill and even in the dining room.
The morning dawned like usual and while upstairs I had no concept my day was about to unravel somewhere I didn’t want it to go. You’ll get the lowdown here but no pictures of the shits (that’s not true -a window actually has bird poop on it) sounds or smells. Not even the smell of fear but perhaps I will be able to convey that.
The dog was extremely agitated to go outside. I thought perhaps he was feeling worse for wear from his eating binge of unmentionables yesterday. I’d had to leave windows open as his gas smell was enough to gag me; an OR nurse who smells a lot of bad things at work.
Now I only left them open like 3″ in case it rained. Back to this am.
I went trough the kitchen; dropping off a couple of items on the island, when this weird sound from the side porch drew my attention. It’s a frigging bird beating itself against the window. I screamed and ran to the door with the dog and outside we went. He was so relieved and I was so distressed.
I’m not going to lie. I flat out dislike birds; especially robins and sparrows. Owls, hawks, eagles are ok but anything that is little and flies around people —serious serious serious dislike. Pigeons – major UGH. Killdeer almost as much because they won’t fly away. We had a robin peck our front window in the city for 2 weeks and you couldn’t go anywhere near the front sidewalk or door. Or those black beedie eyed ones that live in hedges.
Ok — you get my drift. Like I really mean it. This is not something that I control. The fear controls me.
This is like worst case scenario. Home alone, bird in house, me outside. Phone inside. Breakfast inside. Keys inside. Work calling my name. Time to put the big girl panties on and deal with it right?
So I creep back inside and can still hear it over in the other porch. Ok. Good. Run through kitchen, close door. Quietly walk into bathroom and close door. But now it’s fluttering like crazy and my heart is racing.
OK — my thoughts go to contain it. So I put up a sheet on the pass through window and open the kitchen windows — hyperventilating the whole while. But now how to make it leave the room with the closed window and go to an open window.
Right. A blanket and then somehow pick it up. So ok 3 attempts later with it fluttering and me screaming.
Ok. Right. It’s now 7:10 and I’m 20 mins late leaving for work. Plan B does not include leaving the windows open and going to work. OMG — what if I came home to more birds in the house.
Right. Birds. Ah – call somehow to come and deal with it. Right — call a friend who has birds and likes birds. Who happens to be a morning person and has helped me out once before with this issue if memory serves me correctly.
Ah – answers my scatterbrained call on the third ring. Ah — yes she can come but it will take her a little while. I dash through kitchen, grab my lunch, skip breakfast, leave the keys in the door and hastily exit stage left.
Got this text a couple of hours later on my break when I turned my phone on. I’m still doing the hebbie jebbies thinking about her touching this fluttering flapping bird.
Of course it was a robin. Did I mention how much I actively dislike robins. OK — being honest. I hate robins. I know it seems like a harsh word but robins and me we don’t mix. Look at what the robin left me on a window in a room I didn’t even know he’d been in.
My friend Claire is the best! I owe her big time. And the screens: Ron gets home at midnight. Guess what’s he’s doing first thing tomorrow morning? In the meantime I’ve cleaned up all the bird poop and am trying to calm the images in my brain.
I’m sure this will be totally funny to anyone who isn’t terrified of birds. I do know one or two people who will leave sympathetic comments. Me: I just hope I can sleep tonight.