It rained last night. Hard. We’ve had so many hail storms over the last couple of years, that even though it was the middle of the night and early winter at that, I got up to check it out. By which I mean I thought it would be a good idea to actually open the front door and go exploring.
Ever feel the hair on the back of your neck stand to attention, even if you don’t know why? I had only taken a couple of steps and already things were creepy. As I walked along the length of the porch, my peripheral vision caught a shadow keeping pace with me.
That shadow was not on the ground where I was, it was above my head and was thump, thump, thumping as it kept pace with me. By this time, I no longer cared about any possible hail and turned to go inside, the shadow and its thumping keeping me company the whole way.
As I reached the open door,(what was I thinking!), I saw a bird sitting there returning my evil eye. It was a simple gray dove that had been stalking me as I explored, bumping heavily into the ceiling and the windows. As that little demon sat there, I knew we were in for trouble. No matter what I did that little demon was going to wind up in my house.
Slowly I approached hoping to ring the doorbell without disturbing that bird. Surely, the sound of the bell would wake the Mister and bring him to the front door, thereby startling the bird to fly out into the night.
Instead, unknown to me at that moment, he decided to visit the bathroom instead of going to the door. Ugh! No choice, I had to enter the house and yup, that creepy bird flew in ahead of me.
And there was the Princess Dog, laying on his bed, wide awake. Contrary to my expectations, he lay there calmly ignoring the bird who was now careening through the house. Instead, Princess was giving me the “Seriously?” look. No help from that quarter.
I had to go wake the Mister and how in the world was he sleeping again so soon? By this time I am almost in hysterics, and wanting to laugh. Did he believe me when I said there was a bird in the house? Would you?
Meanwhile that dove is trying to find an exit but is only finding walls instead, and yes, the front door is still wide open. And Princess is still laying there wondering what all the fuss is about.
Finally, the Mister makes his appearance and is trying to grab the bird which only makes that devil’s flight pattern more erratic. I’m having visions of bird poop and bird brains being spattered about if he flies into one wall too many.
As we turn on one light after another, until almost the whole house is lit up, I’m hoping that no one else in the neighborhood is awake and wondering what is going on in that house with the crazy neighbors.
And the bird is still in panic mode, as am I, as he continues to careen from one obstacle to another. While I do not want him in the house, I do feel sorry for him and hope that he will survive this misadventure intact.
Now the Mister has figured out that the back door must now be opened so that the bird can be herded out that way. I’m hoping Princess will remain oblivious to the end–he would normally be chasing that critter, looking for a snack.
Finally, the Mister has the bird in hand and throws him out the door just as the dove takes flight. I wonder if it will suffer from PTSD. We turn to close the front door and shut off lights along the way.
I wonder if the Princess will find that bird dead in the backyard in the morning when he makes his first outing. I also wonder if I need to call in a hazmat team in to sterilize all the surfaces that bird has touched. After all, we have all heard about the diseases birds pass along to us. Bird stuff freaks me out.
Months later, the man who had come to spray the yard rang my doorbell. “Ma’am”, he says, “that trap that the last company left on your porch to repel mice, you don’t need it. Those droppings are not mice.”
OK, I’ll bite. “What are they?” I ask. “You have a bat that lives up there in that corner.” What? I have my very own resident bat. So that shadow with its ominous thumping and stalking from months before? The bat. I had disturbed his slumbers and he was paying me back. Thankfully, that bat has since moved on.
