The Bird

Odd that I have now diverged twice from the general rule of posting only about Sylvie-related developments, and in both instances the diversion was prompted by the actions of an unusually aggressive bird... The first time, of course, was my run in with those three attack turkeys. This time the winged antagonist was quite a lot smaller.

Yesterday evening I received a call at work from Melissa, reporting that a bird had somehow gained access to our home and was currently sitting on a bar stool, eying her suspiciously. She asked me to come home and deal with it, and I told her that I'd leave as soon as I could. Since in the best-case scenario I would not be there for an hour and a half, during which time the bird would presumably be free to use our whole house as a toilet, I suggested that she open the family room windows and try to shoo it out one of them.

Roughly five minutes later, another call: the bird was "going crazy" and my girls were locked in our bedroom, hiding. "How big is this bird?" I asked. "Small," Melissa allowed, "but crazy." I asked her to elaborate, and she said it was flying back and forth in the kitchen, alternately banging into the fireplace window and the sliding door. "It's banging into the slider?" I asked. "Then just open it and let it out!" Melissa stated that she could not do so, for fear of entering the kitchen and provoking the wrath of the crazy bird. At one point in the madness, Melissa said, she and Sylvie had cowered under the lip of the kitchen island, while the bird flapped wildly back-and-forth over their heads. Melissa later admitted that only she had been cowering - Sylvie thought the whole thing was quite funny.

I jumped in the car and lucked out on traffic, making it home in less than an hour. When I arrived, I found an unexpectedly calm scene - Melissa feeding Sylvie in the kitchen. "The bird went out the slider?" I asked? "No, it's locked in the laundry room," Melissa said casually. She also said the window in there was wide open, and she hadn't heard the bird for some time.

I opened the door to the laundry room cautiously, for fear of letting the bird escape. "Bird? You gone? He's gone," I said.

"No! He's on the laundry basket!" Melissa cried. I looked up to the top shelf and there, staring down at me hungrily, was a massive, ferocious looking raptor.

Just kidding. It was one of these.

The aptly-named House Finch is about three inches long and, really, quite cute. They are also either really smart or really stupid, ashe was perched not a foot from a wide open window. Unless he liked the warmth and wanted to stay, which I suppose is possible, his refusal to escape was puzzling.

I closed the door, got a broom, and reentered the room. One poke at the little fella and I understood Melissa's previous characterization. That was one crazy House Finch. After about 10 minutes of wild flying and broom-swinging, he took shelter behind the dryer, where I couldn't get at him without risking breaking his wings with the broom. So we closed him up again and had dinner, hoping that the whole "mad broom-swinging human" thing would convince him to take the open window option.

No such luck. After dinner, same story. Open window, belligerent bird. About 15 minutes more of the insane flying/swinging/pooping routine, and I finally caught him in a laundry basket, brought him outside, and let him go - whereupon he wheeled and flew back at me, alighting on the side of our house and cheeping.

Beyond that, I do not know what happened to the bird. He may be hovering about the house, waiting for another chance to get in for all I know.

I have some rough video that I'll post this weekend.

Oh, and I should mention that Melissa wasn't the only one who was afraid of our little House Finch. Through all the bedlam that ordinarily would have delighted him, Pax stayed resolutely in another room, looking entirely freaked out.