Birds are so stupid! I’m sorry if I have offended bird lovers out there, but you know, yourself, that birds are stupid. Pretty, but stupid. You know that if you have ever chased one around a living room in an effort to help it find its way out through a wide-open door. It will flutter its little wings and bang its little head into all manner of immovable objects in an effort to get out into the wide, open spaces, while ignoring the help you are trying to give it.
When I lived in Clarion County, before I met and married Sweetheart, I had a big two-stall garage. It had two large doors for cars to go through and four windows that could slide open. On several occasions, birds would fly in through a window that had been left open. So, I would open both doors intended for cars to go through and all of the windows and shoosh the bird in any direction that was open. As I said earlier, it would flutter its little wings and bang its little head against the CLOSED windows in an effort to get out. Sometimes, if I gave up and let the little flying object to its own devices and come in a day or two later, I would find its corpse lying on the floor. Even now, Sweetheart finds mummified corpses in his barn often in the summer. Now, if that isn’t stupid I don’t know what is!
Some people feed birds. I don’t know why they do that. We all have our proclivities, I guess. I don’t feed birds, because I don’t want them to depend on what I give them for sustenance. For the same reason, I don’t feed squirrels, possums and bears. Let them fend for themselves. Besides, if I were to feed the birds, they would just come closer to the house and make it easier for my cats to make sport of them.
I understand that birds were here before people were—the same as the squirrels, the possums and the bears. You’d think they would have adapted by now. It’s not that I try to be mean, they just don’t understand when I want to help.
Take last week, for instance. Sweetheart and I were on vacation. (Although I don’t know why we call it a vacation, because we don’t work—at least not at gainful employment.) We were staying in a cabin in the woods and, early in the morning, as I was on the floor doing my morning exercises, I heard a sound at the window above my head that sounded like someone throwing pebbles. Lo and behold,it was a bird! I had left the drapes open a smidgen and there was a bird flying into the window, banging its head, falling down a few inches, regrouping and doing it all again. I don’t know if it saw its own reflection, thought it was another bird and was picking a fight, or if it wanted to get through and find out what was inside the cabin. I have no clue as to what birds think—thank Goodness!. Well, I simply closed the drapes and the bird went on to other pursuits—or so I would assume.
When I lived in my previous house, there was a Cardinal that came to the house every spring and banged its head against my front room window. It could perch in the laurel bush outside the window and use it as a launching pad to attempt to burst its way into the house. It did not matter how many times he banged his head, he only got up and tried again.I don’t know how long he did it, because I would get tired of watching him and leave for my daily activities.
I tried various methods to discourage the bird from its attempts. I put little stickers on the window, in hopes that it would realized the window was not wide-open spaces. That didn’t work. I taped up an 8 x 10 portrait of the President at the time. It didn’t scare him one bit. My attempts to shoo him away were useless. The curtains would not fit all the way across the window to shut out the reflection. Finally, I went to the garden center of a local variety store and got a life size plastic owl and tied it to the laurel bush. Well, what do you know? It worked! Apparently, birds don’t like owls.I guess you just have to know how to look at the situation from a bird’s eye view.
Sometimes, people bang their heads against a barrier, without realizing how to solve a situation. Maybe, the way to help is to look at it from their point of view.