I have to wonder what the neighborhood birds think about me. I maintain bird feeders and bird baths in the backyard and front yard. The “rest stop” for my feathered friends lie within five feet of my living room picture window which has become sort of a problem of late. I don’t know if it is the heat, or if I have a particularly stupid band of birds hanging around my house this year, but a lot of them have rammed their beaks into the window only to fall splat onto my front porch.
You would think with the death toll rising, that one of these bird families would send out an email or smoke signal or warning chirp saying,
“This lady is trying, but she is dangerous – STAY AWAY! She has food and water in the yard but her house is still a deathtrap! ”
But none of them have sent up a flare. They just keep coming. After the third death, I moved the “the bird oasis” from the window to the other side of the front yard, but still they come. I go out on my porch when I see a bird perch on my railing and I scream…to my neighbors’ delight I might add,
“The food and water is over there! Save yourselves! Don’t come near the window!”
But alas, they ignore my warnings and fly to the window. The dead birds have taken an emotional toll on all of us in the house including my Frankie – my moose/shepherd/ lab mix, who by the way was recently diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (I kid you not), which might mean a few visits to the doggie therapist. Frankie stands with her front paws on the sofa and her snout against the window watching the birds. She is obsessed At first, I thought she was just on neighborhood patrol, but after observing her, I realized she was hoping to cover the window with enough spit so that the birds didn’t think the clear window was an open invitation to the air conditioned house.
I admit I didn’t get this at first. I thought Frankie was just depositing the extra spit on the window to drive me crazy. She would lather up the window with her saliva, and then I would wipe it down, and this routine repeated over and over. Inevitably, within minutes of me returning my window to its streak- free shine, I would hear “THUMP”, and the barking would begin. I would go out on the front porch, see the new feathered corpse and know that I would be attending another bird funeral.
Despite the increased amount of mourning in my home, I was still not ready to live with gobs of dried dog spit obscuring my window view. Instead, I bought those bird shadow stick-ons that are supposed to scare birds away from windows, but, they have not worked. I am thinking of purchasing some colored, stick on things like the old Colorforms. Maybe the bright images will repel the birds. I don’t know; I think I am grasping at straws.
Anyway, until I can figure out the solution to the dead bird/dog spit problem, I have to live with lots of dog lugies on my windows. At night, it doesn’t bother me, but during the day when the sun shines through, I can get the dry heaves looking at the crusty saliva growing on my window pane. I guess the stomach upset is worth it if a few birds are saved and Frankie’s anxiety level is lowered.
I wonder if Frankie’s new therapist can take on human patients. I have a lot of guilt over the death of these birds. I would go to a people therapist, but I‘m not sure a human therapist would understand the trauma one suffers when she realizes she is a bird serial killer.