Well, apparently word has gotten out that our house is no longer home to cats. And the birds are celebrating by making a grand return to the Promised Land. At least, that's what it seems like. First, when spring sprang, we dealt with the creepy robins who tapped on our windows for hours every morning. Then, a bird lost her life via the garage door a couple of weeks ago. It should be mentioned that this bird (and a few others, I think) had taken up residence in between the brick and sheet rock on the side of our house). Yes, the nest is still there, and, no, it's not currently high on the priority list.
In the latest development, apparently, the storms compelled a bird to take refuge in our WALLS. I'm pretty sure the thing must have gotten in an uncovered vent in the soffit, but it ended up in our "master bathroom" wall, pecking away at a small hole in the sheet rock. It was also violently flapping its wings. Our resident bird whisperer/handyman/bravest man alive (James) shut himself in the bathroom with a drill, gloves, and a blanket. He removed the sheet rock, and the dumb bird was stuck down in the wall. So, James grabbed it, dubbing it a "squirmy little sucker." (Charis has made that catch-phrase a part of her vocabulary. Great.)
I'm starting to be a little afraid of the birds. Just waiting for what's next...
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