I think I'm related to Satan.
Well, let me back up.
I am afraid of birds. Really afraid of them. I don't know why. Perhaps this fear stems from being pooped on by birds several times during Jr. High (which anyone will tell you are the Years of Torture. Jr. High kids are MEAN. 'nuff said.) Maybe this fear comes from the fact that birds are icky. Their cold, dead eyes. Their creepy legs. Beaks. (here is where you imagine a shiver of disgust. I don't know how to replicate one with a keyboard.) The only things I'm more afraid of than birds have 6-8 legs. I'm REALLY REALLY scared of those. I can be around birds. I don't like it. But I can do it. You get more than 4 legs and I will do my utmost (including creating ways of exiting that previously did not exist) to get away.
But I digress.
Today, I was sitting outside waiting for my brother to pick me up after work. I was sitting on the sidewalk reading, leaning against a chain link fence, with a palm tree overhead. I wasn't in the shade of the tree, but I was thinking of moving there. I sat where I was for a few more minutes, when all of a sudden. BAM. Something black and heavy hit the top of my book. I freaked out. My book and hands flailed in the air, trying to get rid of whatever it was. At the same time, I frantically looked around, trying to identify my assailant AND, I jumped up off the ground. The thought going through my head? TARANTULA!! AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!! RUNNNNN!!! nope. It was a baby bird. gross. I get up and move. Then I notice that other baby birds have fallen from this tree (their carcasses are littering the ground). Sad. It's a baby bird cemetery. Eww. I've been reading in a baby bird cemetery. So, I stand up. Oh great! Not only did the stupid thing FALL on me, but it POOPED on me too!!! I HATE BIRDS! The baby bird struggles on the ground. I shiver. Should I help it? I think. I'm not completely devoid of compassion. Naw. Maybe it's mama will come and help it. In the back of my mind I hear "Are you my mother?" sigh. Now it's flailing. It's on it's back, in the sun and can't get up. I should really....move my hand so I can't see it anymore. Another shiver. I hate birds. Thankfully, my moral dilemma ends when my brother pulls up. I get in the car and we drive off. I'll bet the bird is dead now. I feel kind of bad. Kind of.
You ARE without feelings or conscience. Shame on you!! Poor baby, lying there gasping for breath. it never meant to drop on your stupid book, let alone poop on it. now you know where the term scared shitless comes from. I mean really, imagine falling from your warm comfortable bed, tumbling tiny little beak over tiny little feet, scared out of your un-developed little feathers, just knowing that your life is over, when you hit "plop" on something much softer and whiter than the dark, black, burning pavement, and, you think, Heaven? am I in Heaven? I guess God doesn't use old newspapers to line the gold cages in heaven, HE USES ACTUAL BOOK PAGES!! Oh this isn't going to be so bad after all, and then...
ReplyDeleteand then...
you look up to see, could it be an angel... dark wavy hair, nice build, great smile, smells a little sweaty, but she's been out enjoying the sunshine that God gave us. Bet she's got beautiful blue eyes... OOOHHHH NOOO, it's SATAN.... NO, No, no...
Now imagine, panting for one more breath, little lungs gasping in the heat, slowly expiring in the hot Arizona sun...
... and it's such a DRY heat!!
Bye, Bye, Birdie
There, that ought to make you feel better!! Luv ya Sister
Ummmm....yeah.
ReplyDeleteI have nothing to add...for once! ;)
Don't feel bad, Jaq--remember what daddy always used to tell us when sparrows would fall off the light fixtures up in the old garage by the Old House?
Um, prolly you don't remember, since you were like, .2 when we left, or something, but trust me, (and I'm sure susan can back me up on this!) Daddy always told us not to touch them, or our scent would get on them and then the mother wouldn't recognize them when she came to find them.
So, you did it a favor! I'm sure the mommy bird came, and recognized her baby, and even if she couldn't save her baby, they spent it's last moments together in sweet mommy/baby tenderness....
....and then she fed it's entrails to the hungry siblings back up in the nest!
heheheh....I'm not particularly fond of birds either, but I'll blame my suspicions on my love for Hitchcock movies, lol!
Weird about the other baby bird carcasses, though. Very strange. I wonder if it was a cult suicide sort of thing....did you happen to see any koolaid nearby?
If you go back (not like you would, but anyway) be sure you don't try any of the birdseed.
wow lenka. I can't even read that w/o nearly crying. You're mean. but I guess I deserved it, huh?
ReplyDeleteAnd 'rah. you're just plain weird. You know I only eat birdseed that comes from the pet store. You never know what's in the street seed.