The Birds are Back

After my last blog post, ‘I’m Living With Killers’ . . . .what’s the worst thing that could happen after Rod skips town for Las Vegas. UGH!!!!

I get home from working out, step in the hallway and feathers everywhere. I wander, carefully, into the living room and there is Mitzer, lying on the carpet in the sun like a drunken misfit. He lifts his head slightly as if to say, ‘did ya want something?’ I keep looking for the bird . . . . until I retrace my steps back around to the hallway and here it is hovering in the corner by the garage door – I nearly squished it when I came in the house.

It’s breathing heavily but looks scared stiff. As much as I really don’t think of myself as a ‘girly girl’ something about birds just freaks me out. So, there’s no way I can pick up the thing. I’m kind of whimpering to myself and cursing the cat as I walk around the house saying out loud, ‘what am I going to do?!’ Trying all the while not to have a full blown panic attack.

I know! I’ll call our friend and former pastor, Mike, who lives around the corner! Surely this is a pastoral matter!?

I call and he’s not home. . . . but, his 15 yr old daughter, Tamsyn, says, ‘I’ll come get it!’ So, she trots over and without hesitation she picks up the bird. However, unlike Rod, she didn’t need any ‘kill kit.’ She was going to let the bird go. So, I just said, ‘make sure you put it somewhere where our cats can’t find it again.’ You can see now where this is going . . . .

Just before Tamsyn slips out the door, the bird poops in her hand, landing on my carpet which distracts her for a moment and she loosens her grip on the bird. When it escapes from her hand it darts STRAIGHT toward my HEAD! It’s at this point that I totally lose it, making total fool of myself in front of Tamsyn and her mother, Janene. I scream bloody murder and run toward the farthest corner of the house. Tamsyn just calmly goes and gets the bird again and takes it outside.

I vacuum quickly, shower and am off to a friend’s house for dinner. Fast-forward to 9:30, walk in the door. ‘Hmmm..... didn’t I vacuum before I left?’ More feathers on the floor. I search and search and search and can’t find a thing. I am now hopeful that Mitzer did bring the bird back in the house, but THEN decided to take it back out again. Whew.

I go back to our bedroom and I’m in the ensuite getting ready for bed and happen to peer out to the bedroom where Mitz is hunkered down and staring under the dresser. Oh no! So, I get down on all fours with him. I can see something in the corner - - a blob in the dark. It’s not moving. At this point, I think there’s only a 50% chance it’s actually a bird. I’m thinking coincidentally, Mitz just saw this long-lost toy of some sort under there. I go get the torch (flashlight). It’s only shining at 30% capacity . .. . it doesn’t help much. Now, Mitz, Pele the scaredy cat, and I are all three hunkered down looking under the dresser. I see a slight movement. %$#^&*! It’s a friggin’ bird!

Now it’s 10pm. Who is going to rescue me at 10pm? For a brief moment I do consider actually sleeping in the room with the bird under the dresser. It probably would just stay under the dresser, wouldn’t it? I can’t see it creeping forward while we’re all asleep. Okay, ooooo, that thought lasted a VERY BRIEF MOMENT! I think of that Hitchcock movie and decide against sleeping in my bed with a bird 6 feet awat. I could just close the door and make up the spare bed and sleep in there . . . . the cleaning lady is coming in the morning, maybe she’ll help me get the bird? She’s used to doing dirty stuff......

I think about Mike again. The closest male living in the neighbourhood. But, it’s 10pm . . .. I don’t want to phone his house. And, my heroine, Tamsyn, is probably in bed by now. Mike is often on Facebook so I take the gamble to check if he’s online. HE IS! I chat to him and ask if he’ll come over and get the bird.

He does . . . . . with a plastic bag in hand, he reaches far under the dresser and gets it. I’m in the hallway peeking around the corner. When he finally gets it out he has a ‘Tamsyn moment’ and relaxes his grip on the thing and I swear it started flying STRAIGHT toward my HEAD once again! I make a fool out of myself yet another time by squealing like a crazy woman. All the while, Mike is relaxed and calm and saying, ‘it’s okay, I’ve got it’ over and over. He calmly just marches out the door with it . .. . . I’m left there alone with feathers all over the house and a heart beating madly.....

I watch him go, taking the bird to his house apparently so that it’s far away from Mitzer. He just about gets to his car when he turns back around and walks back to the window and says thru the glass, ‘when there’s one of these, there’s probably more.’ That’s it. That’s his motivational, comforting (pastoral?) last words to me . . . . . As I go ashen, I just say, ‘thanks for that.’

So, 12 hours later, no more birds yet. I REALLY can’t wait for Rod to get home!