Bird Dog

I was greeted by the desperate fluttering of a bird trapped in my fireplace this morning.  Shutting the doors to adjacent rooms, I went for a flashlight and dish towel before opening the fireplace doors.  Fortunately, he was blinded and clung fearfully to the bricks when I shone the light on him.  I was so relieved he easily disengaged from the wall when I grasped him with the dish towel.  My heart soared as he winged his way to freedom like so many others I’ve released from my chimney trap.  I was reminded of another bird experience.

Annie, our Dalmatian dog once alerted me to a bird on the fireplace.  That time it didn’t go so smoothly, since I hadn’t yet learned to shine the light on the bird to confuse it.  The bird escaped into the living room.  It took me a few attempts before I caught and released it.  During the melee, Annie bonded with the poor, terrified bird.  She clearly enjoyed seeing its return to safety.  Lest you think a lot of kind thoughts about Annie, I need to let you know, that’s the only non-despicable she ever did.  She was sweet about the bird.

The next day, I went to visit my sister.  Marilyn had just gotten a bird.  That poor bird must have thought it had gone to Hell.  Marilyn’s cat  had his hissing face pressed into the cage with his front paws clutching the cage in a death grip.  The traumatized bird had backed as far away  as the cage would allow.  Marilyn was tired of pulling the cat off the bird’s cage, so when she offered me the bird, I took it.  The weather was fine, so the bird stayed on the patio for the rest of our visit with the disappointed cat’s nose pressed against the glass the whole time.

Annie assumed ownership of the bird, greeting it every time she walked by and napping by its cage.  The bird enjoyed her company chattering merrily when Annie greeted it. They were friends for several years until the bird’s death.  It was a heartwarming friendship.


The Moral of the Story is………..

Free BirdThree missionaries went to a remote island in the Pacific.  A stream divided the island.  Their predecessors advised them. “Never,ever cross that stream.  The monstrous Foo Bird patrols that side of the island.  Should you cross that stream, the Foo Bird will poop on you.  The smell is horrendous.  It never wears off.  If you wash it off, you will die.”

Naturally, the missionaries were burning with Christian Zeal.  The first thing they did was cross the stream to spread the message.  Sure enough, the Foo Bird pooped on as they stepped out of the stream.  The first missionary rushed back into the stream to wash it off.  He died on the spot as the other two watched in amazement.

About a week later, the smell was just as bad.  The two were constantly nauseated.  The second missionary couldn’t take it anymore.  He waded into the stream for a bath.  He died.

The third missionary suffered five long years till he decided life just wasn’t worth living like this.  He’d have to wash this poop off, even if it killed him.  He waded in and died.

The moral of the story is, if the Foo sh–ts, wear it!