My war with the birds

I was not aware I was in a battle with birds, but evidently I am.

My parents have always owned birds, mostly parrots.  When I was a child they had Peppi, a sun conure.  Oh, was he a nasty little thing.  My mother loved him, as she does all her "special" pets.  (Not special as in unique, special as in missing some genetic code somewhere). He would scream at me and try to bite me every time I walked by. 

At first, I imagine as a child I found this a part of life.  As I grew older, I tried to have fun with it and tried to teach him to say not so nice things. 

My parents also rescued a dove, we named Glory.  I named him after a My Little Pony that my friend had, in the hopes that one day I would have more than 1 My Little Pony....nope.  Glory is the sweetest bird ever, however he likes to peck me and beat me with his wing.  It's a dove, so it doesn't hurt.  It's the sudden removal of your hand from the cage that hurts, as you scrape it on the door.  I have scars from this so-called bird of peace. 

I've been pooped on by pigeons and beaten by a sexually frustrated rooster.  (In my defense, I thought he was attacking my hen!)

I went along while someone else hunted turkeys.  I thought since I wasn't holding the firearm, I would be safe....nope.  Evidently I picked the only $%*# tree that wasn't a good hiding spot!  My friend made some stupid noises, evidently turkey calls, to bring the bird towards us.  It worked, the turkey walked right towards my tree.  As the turkey strutted towards me doing some stomping thing and spreading his feathers, I silently wished I could climb trees and that I hadn't drank that grande coffee before hand, because I was about to pee myself. 

I'm not one to enjoy hunting and I'm not even sure why I went along.  However when that shotgun, FINALLY went off, I cried with relief...yes I cried.  I will mention at this point that this is when my so-called friend, informed me that he LET it get that close so I could enjoy it.  We are no longer friends.  (Not because of that isolated incident, but it makes for a better story.)

During college, I studied animal science.  After the turkey experience I embraced my hatred of turkeys and studied animal nutrition.  In this case we used different diets to see which ones produced the best growth.  The best part was getting to eat the control group. 

Nowadays my parents still own Glory (or an identical replacement...the bird is 25 years old or so) and 2 beautiful African Greys.  They are smart and hilarious. 

My parents left for a cruise one summer and I was left to bird sit.  I taught Cheeks how to say "Heidi, heidi-ho."  (Think South Park, Christmas poo).  I try my best to get along with Cheeks, however his beak and intelligence scare the bejeesus out of me.  I have a very healthy respect fear of my dad's birds and they KNOW it. 

"Hey Pearl here comes that lady that's scared of us!"
Pearl will move to the front of the cage to entice me into petting her head, as I begin to scratch, she attempts to "taste" my finger...not cool.
I move on to Cheeks, who says "hello" and is very polite.  Then he does that focus thing with his eye, that reminds me of the velociraptor in Jurassic Park...I'm done, moving on. 
Then Cheeks laughs, yes the bird laughs.

So today, I noticed that a dove kept flying back and forth from our back door.  Curious, I peeked out and noticed he was building a nest.  His girlfriend was sitting on top of the porch light meticulously arranging the twigs. 

My heart sang and broke at the same time.  Doves are beautiful and I'd be happy for them to nest near my house.  However we will be moving out shortly of our rental.  The new tenants may not appreciate the beauty of this.

Out of compassion, I gently removed their nest from the porch light.  For their safety, I took down their *&#$ nest.  Now they are outside glaring at me through the screen door.  Have you ever been glared at by a dove?  It's like they are glaring at your soul.  "Birds of peace" my butt.  As soon as I step outside, I will get pooped on, pecked at or beaten down with their heavenly wings.

In the far distant future when a rogue hummingbird nicks my jugular, hopefully then this silly bird war will end.  Out of respect for me, please do not release birds at my funeral or memorial.  They will only sh%$ on my casket or urn!