BIRDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Right before Christmas we installed a fence around a portion of the back yard outside Kenny's office door with the idea that we could just let the dogs go into the fenced area to do their business and not have to do the early morning and late night dog walks. However, that was not to be. They don’t like to do their business in the fenced area…unless it’s snowing outside. I don’t know why they are being so picky. Although it is kind of neat to be able to open the office door on nice days and let them run in and out.

That’s the background. Here’s where it gets gross. Over the past couple of weeks we’ve had some birds bite it and land inside the fenced area (one poor feathered friend landed on a chair!). Chewie will sniff at them, but leave them alone. Lindy Sue, however, (let me pause for a shudder break) likes to carry them around. So far we’ve had to rescue three from her. One I got from her outside and I was able to use one of Ken’s planter bases to scoop up the bird and chunk it outside the fencing. Two, unfortunately, made it inside the house (shudder break).

Two weeks ago I was lying in bed reading when Lindy Sue came walking in the room and then went behind the chair. I could tell she dropped something and then she looked at me. A bad feeling gripped my tummy. I got up and checked…it was a dead finch. Shrieks of “Ewww! Ewww! Ewwwww!” filled my room and I called for the girls before reminding myself that I was the Mom so I had to take care of it. Luckily, Meg had the iron stomach and got a paper towel and took care of the finch (double shudder when I think that it was just a paper towel between Meg’s hand and the bird).

Last night after church, the dogs were running in and out of the house through the office door while Meg and I talked in the living room. Lindy Sue came FROM MY BEDROOM (oh how that haunts me) with something in her mouth. Meg went still and said, “She’s got a bird.” Which, embarrassingly, caused us both to start shrieking. Then the dog jumped on my couch with this bird in her mouth. It was red. Not blood red, but cardinal red. Oh my! She jumped on the back of the couch and dropped the bird so it landed by our feet. So there Meg and I are, shrieking and dancing from foot to foot. Now I don’t know what the difference is between a finch and a cardinal but there obviously is one and we were reacting to that difference! The bird’s neck was twisted so it was lying on the floor “looking” at me, which didn't help matters. “Meg, Meg, get a broom. Get a broom!” I’m shrieking all the while dancing around and trying to keep the dogs from getting to the bird. Meg comes out of the laundry room with a broom. Obviously she didn’t read my mind and get the dustpan, too. “Meg, Meg! Get the dustpan! Get the dustpan!” She runs back to the laundry room and comes back with broom and dustpan. I tell her to keep the dogs away (which, by the way, she does NOT do) while I try to sweep the cardinal onto the dustpan while dancing and shrieking and having Chewie going crazy and attacking the broom. I finally get the job accomplished and dance my way out the door, shrieking all the while, and then give the dustpan a good flip and sling the bird out of the fence.

Now during all of this, Johanna was, well, we’ll say “otherwise occupied.” However, while we’re trying to get the bird on the dustpan, she comes running out to the living room trying to figure out what was going on. After all was shrieked and done, she said that she thought that the house was on fire and was a little irritated that we hadn’t come and gotten her. So off she goes to complete her business. In the meantime, Meg and I have to relive the grossness of it all and dance and shudder, shudder and dance all the while talking about what just happened. Ten minutes later, Kenny comes home and we get to regale him with the story. (Sorry, had to take a shudder break again.) The whole time we’re telling him the story, I’m still dancing foot to foot. Can you believe that man brought up the unfortunate incident of the cat in the dryer from my youth? (Long story short: growing up we had a cat that liked to jump in the dryer. When you threw in wet clothes, he’d jump out. One day he didn’t and I ended up with a load of dried clothes covered with inside out kitty. Not a pretty story. Not one of my better days. But also not applicable in the case of bird removal!!)

Okay, so I know it was just a bird. It’s not like I had to deal with a dead person. But there was just something so creepy about the cardinal. I kept waiting for him to “wake up” and come after me. I obviously watch way too much T.V.! And THAT, is now what we will deem, "The Bird Story" for future generations.