Birds in the house

Upon arriving home for the store a few weeks ago, I found a bird in our entrance. I quietly backed out of the garage door and told Jeff he should open the outside door in hopes it would leave. Jeff opened the door ever so carefully and then walked to peer into the side window. “There’s no bird in there,” he said. He continued to say this until he found the bird, ten minutes later, sitting just under our bed. He opened the sliding door, wiggled the bed, and the bird trotted out the door looking quite pleased with himself.

A few hours later, out of the corner of my eye, I saw another one walking into the living room. He had passed the TV and was making his way to the fireplace before Jeff saw him. We closed the blinds and stood on the opposite side the room making silly noises as we watched him hop out onto the deck, he looked both ways, and flew off. Ellie, our 75 pound, 12-year-old golden/lab, was laying in the middle of the living room unbothered by either visiter. “She didn’t even move,” I said. “Maybe this goes on all the time,” Jeff said.

Ellie has the life. She spends most of the day sleeping on the front porch. She has a second story view of the ocean and the entire street. She doesn’t bark much anymore, only when really strange people are around. For the most part, she lives the life of a retired dog.

This afternoon a humming-bird entered the front door. He flew around for just a moment and then snuck between the blinds and fluttered there. As soon as he landed in the window, I looked down at Ellie who was stretched out in front of the TV. She raised her head, and looked back at me, and with those sad but all-knowing eyes said, “The idiots are here again.”

 

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