Crap and Catch and Release
So, I moved to a new city and I think nature and I have finally reached an equilibrium. I'm sitting in a house surrounded by hundreds of boxes and I haven't really seen one creepy crawly inside the house with me yet. What I have seen is lots of nature.
The first two days the movers left most of the doors open as they were going in and out. I just KNEW I was going to have things in the house,especially with my recent track record. This is south Texas, for goodness sakes. Lo and behold, I was right.
I kept hearing this incessant chirping that was driving me nuts. It didn't take me long to figure out I had visitors. The house is on a hill and apparently with the doors open, birds thought they could fly right through. All of the possible scenarios that could happen to me and only to me, ran through my head. Can birds get rabies? I was sure if it were possible, I was sure to get bitten, scratched or crapped on. (They claim that its good luck when you get crapped on by a bird, but um, I'll pass. Knowing me I would get crapped on by an ostrich or something.)
The dang birds kept ramming themselves into the windows, but only up near the top of the ceiling where I couldn't reach them. I pondered for a minute. With every "THUNK!" the words, "Stop hitting yourself. Stop hitting yourself" jumped into my head.
I realized that there was no way on God's green earth was I going to be able to catch and remove the birds but I did know they had to go. I didn't want to live in an aviary.
So, what'd I do? I called the mover.
There was one guy on the team who was extra helpful. I sighed and let my hysteria come out.
"Can you please help with that bird? He's gonna hurt himself!" I didn't add what I was thinking, "Or worse yet, hurt me".
He looked at me like I was stone cold crazy.
I was gonna to have to pull out all stops.
I batted my eyelashes, tossed my hair back, wet my lips. "Pleeeaasse."
Now, before you go ranting and ravin', women have power and you have to know when to use it. I'd already had my share of paramedics and fire rescue teams. I could have run around the house and beat the poor birdie bloody with a broom or something but I believe in Karma. I felt it was time to make my peace with nature. If I hurt the birdy who knows what Mother Nature would throw at me next.
And you know what? Homey did something I never thought of. He grabbed a moving pad and shooed the birds into a corner, then threw the pad over the top of them, and scooped the suckers up. He took special care to walk the critters outside and uphill away from the house and then carefully release them.
It was the most beautifully executed catch and release I have ever seen.
And you know what else? I think Mother nature and I have made out peace now. If only I can stop my kids from trying to put the cat down the laundry chute.
The first two days the movers left most of the doors open as they were going in and out. I just KNEW I was going to have things in the house,especially with my recent track record. This is south Texas, for goodness sakes. Lo and behold, I was right.
I kept hearing this incessant chirping that was driving me nuts. It didn't take me long to figure out I had visitors. The house is on a hill and apparently with the doors open, birds thought they could fly right through. All of the possible scenarios that could happen to me and only to me, ran through my head. Can birds get rabies? I was sure if it were possible, I was sure to get bitten, scratched or crapped on. (They claim that its good luck when you get crapped on by a bird, but um, I'll pass. Knowing me I would get crapped on by an ostrich or something.)
The dang birds kept ramming themselves into the windows, but only up near the top of the ceiling where I couldn't reach them. I pondered for a minute. With every "THUNK!" the words, "Stop hitting yourself. Stop hitting yourself" jumped into my head.
I realized that there was no way on God's green earth was I going to be able to catch and remove the birds but I did know they had to go. I didn't want to live in an aviary.
So, what'd I do? I called the mover.
There was one guy on the team who was extra helpful. I sighed and let my hysteria come out.
"Can you please help with that bird? He's gonna hurt himself!" I didn't add what I was thinking, "Or worse yet, hurt me".
He looked at me like I was stone cold crazy.
I was gonna to have to pull out all stops.
I batted my eyelashes, tossed my hair back, wet my lips. "Pleeeaasse."
Now, before you go ranting and ravin', women have power and you have to know when to use it. I'd already had my share of paramedics and fire rescue teams. I could have run around the house and beat the poor birdie bloody with a broom or something but I believe in Karma. I felt it was time to make my peace with nature. If I hurt the birdy who knows what Mother Nature would throw at me next.
And you know what? Homey did something I never thought of. He grabbed a moving pad and shooed the birds into a corner, then threw the pad over the top of them, and scooped the suckers up. He took special care to walk the critters outside and uphill away from the house and then carefully release them.
It was the most beautifully executed catch and release I have ever seen.
And you know what else? I think Mother nature and I have made out peace now. If only I can stop my kids from trying to put the cat down the laundry chute.
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houseboy