Gut Rumbles

June 14, 2006

same old same old

Illegal immigrant tropical storm Badass Alberto is gone now. I enjoyed all the rain he dumped around here, but when I checked the gauge in my yard this morning, it held a fraction more than 1", which is about 5" less than what we needed to wet the ground decently. Shit. The sun is blazing as mercilessly as usual now and the ground will be as dry as a popcorn fart again by tomorrow.

Still, it was better than nothing.

I picked a lot of tomatoes (no more of the sexually-deviant kind), two bell peppers and some more banana peppers this morning, and I experienced a mockingbird attack while I was out there performing stoop labor. I think those are the same birds who have nested in my back yard scrub-woods for the past four years--- I recognize that big, honking, hostile male--- but they've moved their nest to the other side of my woods from where they've homesteaded in the past.

I was first alerted to their presence by a lot of screeching and shaking of small tree limbs nearby. I tried to ignore them while I picked vegetables. But those birds didn't WANT "peace." They wanted a "PIECE" of ME, dammit, and they set forth to get it, too.

I was swooped upon. I got pecked on my tender noggin. I had some of my thinning gray silver hair snatched out by the roots. In typical attack strategy, one bird occupied my attention in front, while the other one snuck up from behind and attempted to drill a hole in my skull. I thought that maybe if I stood perfectly still, they would give up and ignore me.

Bad plan. All I accomplished with that tactic was to make those birds more pissed off than they already were and provide a stationary target for their bombing raids. I could hear little baby birds chirping (or maybe cheering) from their nest in a nearby tree, as mama and daddy made me do a non-happy-dance all over my garden. They were tearing into me worse than my own mama ever did with a willow switch.

I finally ran for my life, spilling freshly-picked tomatoes in my wake. Those mean-ass birds chased me all the way to my back door, then roosted on my barbecue grill to laugh at me once I was inside with the door locked. Mean little bastids.

Still, I gotta admit one thing. I kinda ADMIRE those birds. They are fiercely protective of their nest, they ain't afraid of ANYTHING and they work together like a well-trained sniper unit when they attack. Plus, they are marvelous songbirds to listen to in the morning.

They don't eat seed from my bird feeders--- mockers prefer LIVE food--- but they'll perch up there on the T-bar, sing, scold and run off any other critter who dares invade THEIR territory. That includes dogs, cats, other birds and ME. I admire GALL, and they've got plenty of that.

I intend to go out and pick some more goodies from my garden today. But I really need a football helmet, elbow-length gauntlet gloves and a Kevlar vest to armor myself with first. Those hostile little bastids will come after me again, just as sure as Jawja has pine trees, when they spot me on "their" turf.

I ain't gonna shoot 'em. I kinda like their attitudes.

But they don't like ME.



Would this be the same mockingbird family you protected by shooting a cat out of their tree?

Some gratitude. Shoulda left the cat to his devices.

Posted by: Desert Cat on June 14, 2006 07:33 PM

...cute story

Posted by: vicki on June 14, 2006 07:48 PM

Yep, DC--- it's the same bunch. Ungrateful bastids!

Posted by: Acidman on June 14, 2006 07:54 PM

I like the mockingbirds myself. I have a lot of them here and they do sing sweetly. I've never been swooped by one either. I didn't think they were mean. I've been harassed by blue jays, and once by a mother robin but I always thought of mockingbirds as kind of mellow. Odd.

Posted by: Libby on June 14, 2006 08:39 PM

You have two choices, shoot them or stay out of their territory until the little ones fly away. Been there, done that. Pick the veggie's at night by flashlight for a couple of days. I don't have enough hair to contribute to their nest.

Posted by: Scrapiron on June 14, 2006 08:53 PM

"Welcome to Mutual of Allthatgall's Wild Kingdom, starring Acidman Rob Smith. Mr. Smith's interaction with the beasts of the wild is much more interactive than Marlin Perkins used to be, as Acidman works sans assisstant and therefore takes the risks himself, instead of Jim. Remember Jim, folks? A nice man, if somewhat underpaid and mostly uncredited...
After the break, we'll be back to watch Acidman interact with a pair of lovely nesting mockingbirds. Will they let him pick his 'maters in peace or will someone end up bleeding? Stayed tuned and find out.
We'll ba back after these messages..."

Posted by: Stevie on June 14, 2006 08:55 PM

Holy Crap! After all you been thru ya let a couple of Woody Woodpeckers beak yur noggin? Maybe you should NOT use a 12 gauge that you do NOT have and render the little bastards parentless. The neighbor tells me a mockingbird stews up right good if ya do it right. NOT that I would know, mind you, being a law imbiding citizen and all.

Posted by: Rumbear on June 15, 2006 12:26 AM

Dear confused "homeowner",
While pickin' your tomatahs you crossed the line markin' where my wife (pbuh) and I are raisin' our young uns. Do not attempt this again or your punkin head will run red! Ya got what I'm sayin?
We should be through with this in about 4 weeks. Til then, you wait.

Respectfully submitted,

Posted by: mockingbird on June 15, 2006 11:13 AM

Wish I coulda seen that! LOL! What a stitch!
Next time, take your tennis racket out with you. Ever see what a tennis racket can do to a dive-bombing bird? Thock!!!! Feathers, teeth, hair and eyeballs everywhere.

Posted by: Doc on June 15, 2006 11:49 AM

Got 4" from Alberto here.

um...rain, that is....

Posted by: BabsRN on June 15, 2006 04:58 PM
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