BIRDS: back from The Vault

As my first entry from The Vault (a place where good anecdotes from the past are safely kept until they mature and come out at the appropriate time), we visit my house last year during a tumultuous time..

Last summer, July 21st to be precise, birds became my new foe.

I wake up that morning, hear something funny like a distant flutter, go about my business, hear something funny again.. I look for the source of this noise but can’t find one. As I’m getting ready in the kitchen, I look in the living room and see a little tweet tweet bird sitting up in our tree!!! I yell to the Lord “There’s a bird IN the tree!” He sleepily replies something about that being what birds do.. and I yell again “in the LIVING ROOM TREE!” He runs downstairs as I stare in disbelief and says “AH! Am I seeing double? There’s TWO birds! No no.. THREE!” The three little birds were just chilling and pooping in our small living room tree. Our yelling must have scared them as they started flying around everywhere. We open doors and shoo them all out one at a time, then leave for work.

I come home that night and I hear a little tweet tweet. Oh. Dang. Another one must have gotten stuck in the fireplace shaft when we closed it after figuring out their entry way. We open the shaft and down plops a bird, yet again in our living room. Other roomie pulls the ol’ scream-scram as the bird flies out and I videotape the incident.
Then… another one falls and pulls a repeat performance.

Half an hour or so passes by, and I hear another high pitched scream from upstairs. Ah crap. Roomie went to loo and was surprised by yet another bird in the shower. It flies around, and we finally coax it downstairs and out the front door as I yell for it to “get OUT and don’t come back, YOU!” then shut the door on my hysterically laughing neighbor who witnesses the incident.

The next few weeks went by in much of the same fashion, with a total of 12-or-so birds entering the house.

…

As I say my goodbyes to our real pet this morning, Bailey the little man Chihuahua, (that’s not an oxymoron, he’s quite manly) I hear the unmistakable sound of a bird falling down the chimney… I can’t say I was surprised, but the little turdlinger was, and I bet the bird was too. I had to leave it there until I return tonight, video camera in hand to tape the sooty tweeter’s escape from chimncatraz.