BIRD LADY OF BURNSIDE...

I present you with my problems with various birds turning up on my doorstep, seemingly each weekend... 

• The baby magpie whose parents flew in with him one Saturday morning and then out again, sans baby, leaving him behind to demand food while sitting on my arm.  They came back twice to check on him before carting him away hours later while I frantically tried to keep cats away from, and the food up to, it.

• The bush turkey chicken rescued from the cat before he could be eaten.  Gorgeous little chicks that can’t be kept in captivity and their parents abandon them before they’re born. What a horrid life they must have.

• The peewee that insisted on sitting on the fence while the cats stalked him only to speed off at the last possible second and spoil their fun.  I didn’t realise birds could smile until then.

• The corella which fell off the roof (closely followed by the cat), that turned out to belong to the next door neighbours. Their three year old son had decided to liberate him.

• The kookaburra with half a top beak that likes to come and laugh at my landscaping efforts from the clothes line. 

• Crows, loud mouths of the suburbs, that love to yell at all hours about how clever they are. I rush out clapping to frighten them away. Their beady eyes frighten me.

• The eastern koel (cuckoo) that comes each spring morning at the crack of dawn screaming out a loud and monotonous  “Woo-oo-WITTT!” half the day and drives me nuts. I’m sure that bird followed me from Toowoomba where it woke me every morning before dawn when I was pregnant with my second child.  Ear plugs are no barrier to that call. 

• The Green Catbird that finds it hilarious to knock on my window at the crack of dawn a few times before flying away.

• The owl perched on my top step one night as I was about to leave for work. Unfortunately, it flew off before I could use him as an excuse to be late.

There have been many more visitors to my small suburban yard but this one takes the cake I think. Read on…

Today, in an effort to put off working on the latest job application, I was collecting all the orange skins dropped by whatever bird dines on the oranges on the tree out the front (another feathered fiend I’d forgotten about). Suddenly, there was a rustling in the philodendron vine that grows up the fence beside the tree.  I leapt about a metre in the air thinking it was a snake and when I was back on the ground out popped a......  duck!  A very attractive duck, with teal blue on his wings, a beige, speckled body with other colourful markings on his neck and a cute curl on top of his tail.  He wasn't particularly friendly and I could see he had one wing clipped so obviously was someone's pet, but whose? 

I ran inside and got him some water and bread and then contemplated what to do while he thanklessly chowed down.  Easy, must belong to the bird lady next door.  So off I go and knock on their door.  No, they don't have a duck, but she offered to come get him and so, dear friends, thereupon she (all 6' tall and 3' wide of her) and I (well you know me) sallied forth to capture said errant duck.  Up we trooped towards the tree where Desmond was waiting (I realise his name is probably Sigrund or something else rather posh but he looked like a Desmond to me).  I suggested to my leader that we should have a sheet or something to throw over him but she said that would frighten him more.  I bowed to her experience although I venture to suggest to you that the vision of a 6' tall woman in long skirt stomping towards you with arms and legs out wide would be rather more frightening than a quick sheet over the head. 

He made a break early and it was plain he couldn't fly so it was up to the backstop (that was me) to fling herself in his path which she did with an athleticism that would astound you although I was glad when the game was up after only 10 minutes as the flinging was becoming quite unco and, if there is such a word, palsified.  No doubt the neighbours snickering behind their blinds thought we looked like a couple of Sumo wrestlers practising our moves.  Finally, she herded him into a corner and grabbed him by the neck as he tried another pass.  Phew! No harm done and she gently cuddled him to her ample bosom whispering sweet nothings in his ear (do they have ears?) as she went off to install him in his new home until he's claimed.

So, what is the Universe trying to tell me?  I should open a bird sanctuary perhaps?  Suggestions anyone?  Well, I can't start that application now, someone's got to feed the cats (who've been inside most of the day much to their disgust) and then me and after that I'll be too exhausted from the day's events to get back into it.  Tomorrow I will make a proper start, I promise.

Most of the suggestions received from friends about the Universe's plans were unrepeatable and later in the week Desmond was claimed by someone a few doors down although I never found out the duck’s real name. I decided the Universe was telling me to keep the cats inside, so I do, as much as their constant whining allows.  22/7 at least.

A friend found an article on the net about the spiritual meanings of birds.  I've selected the birds who've found their way into my life/yard, whether sitting on my clothes line, chancing death with the cats or just driving me nuts.  There was no pigeon on the list.  They like to kill themselves by flying into closed windows. In the olden days, I could’ve made pigeon pie.  Also, no finch. Bruce brought one home recently.  It died in my hand after I rescued it from him and when I showed him what he’d done, he snatched it back and ate it, feet and all. And he wonders why he's not allowed outside any more.  I added those birds to the list with my own interpretation:

Blackbird/Crow: A message of blessings.

Duck:  Good Luck. Wealth. 

Finch:  You’ll never be hungry

Kingfisher/Kookaburra:  Predicts a magical experience.

Magpie:   Fortune-teller.

Owl: Wisdom

Parrot/Corella: Mimic, Ostentatiousness 

Pigeon:   Pay attention to your surroundings

Turkey:  Give away. Amerinds see turkey as a sign of generosity.

Wagtail/Peewee:  Good luck.

So Mr Universe, perhaps I am to have a magical stroke of luck/blessings and then give it all away because I was too ostentatious and unobservant?

 © 2009 (I am now older and wiser, so don't let the cat outside and don't feed ducks or swans bread as it's bad for them. Lest you think I hate birds, I can assure you I love them.)