I love pets, but I’ve never owned a bird. Frankly, I’ve never understood the allure. Maybe I get parrots and their ilk–birds that can climb on your shoulders and show a little affection–but canaries in a cage? That just seems cruel. Plus, I don’t care what kind of bird you own, you can’t snuggle up with it when the weather’s chilly. And then there’s all that Tippi Hedren stuff to worry about. (Not that dogs don’t have their evil counterparts.)
For the past five months, however, I’ve been given another reason to dislike birds:
They’re, uh, kinda dumb. This one in particular.
Since late fall, this cardinal has been hurling himself against the windows on the west side of our house, presumably in an effort to oust his reflection from the territory. Jonno taped some photos of Tyra Banks to the window in the bedroom, so he kinda avoids that one now, but he shows no sign of giving up on the others.
The fun starts around 7:30am and goes ’till about 11am, which is probably when the sun gets high enough in the sky to change the bird’s reflection in the window. You’d think he might get the picture by now, but no dice.
Any suggestions? We’ve run out of Tyra photos and patience.
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