Monday, June 7, 1999

As the Crow Flies

Just because a fellow finds it is becoming increasingly difficult to leave his house doesn't mean his struggle with agoraphobia is worsening. Nope, it can mean, and in this case it mostly does mean, that he has a pair of big black attack crows in his backyard. Thems are scary birds.

The two birds with wing spans the scope of the darkest lunar eclipse, fly from house to house, yard to yard, telephone wire to telephone wire, and as they do so they make the loudest noise, not really a cackle as much as a caw, with increasing intimidating volume. As soon as I step out of my humble little house, the two birds start circling overhead like buzzards or vultures and with each passing circle they get closer and closer to my lil' head.

Now granted I'm not exactly a morning person but it isn't as though I need any help getting started before eight o'clock a.m. Nope, I'm quite fine getting myself to wherever I may have to be usually early rather than late. So it's certainly not as if these two birds who seem to think they own the neighborhood, are doing me a favor with their ritualistic cacophony of noisy phantasmagoria. But every morning my heart gets an early rush of adrenaline from the mean spirited behavior from these two monsters. I'm more than willing to leave them alone if they agree to leave me alone. If they have a nest in the area all they need to do is let me know where it is and I'll promise not to go anywhere near it, or do anything to endanger their young. I have no motivation to agitate these birds. Makes me wonder why we all can't just get along.

It's gotten to the point where I nervously look over my shoulder any time I step outdoors, and a couple times I even sort of made a mad dash for the garage when the two crows began their circling act. One morning I even thought about bringing Mr. Max out with me for protection, but these birds are large enough that they could probably swoop down, pick him up and carry him away before he even had the time to so much as start to meow. I can see it in my mind, my little buddy being carried off somewhere in the distance with a stunned and a little scared look on his lovable little face, not sure what hit him.

Last week, I took my first aggressive action. As one of the crows began diving closer to my head, I stopped in my yard. No longer was I going to stand for this constant intimidation. I looked up (praying to God the bird wouldn't either peck out my eye, or decide to let go of some excrement) and started barking at the top of my lungs. Quite to my surprise it kind of worked. The bird didn't get as close as usual, and eventually ended up perched on the nearby telephone line where it remained until I got to my garage. As soon as it left the wire I barked again. Again, it stayed clear of me. At this point my neighbors probably all were looking out their windows at me, either alarmed at this rather anti-social behavior, or quietly applauding me. The crows have been nondiscriminating with their annoying noisy act. They have even frightened the kind elderly next door neighbor who loves to hang her laundry outside to dry.

Of course the aforementioned Mr. Max has been curiously watching all the action from his favorite window that gives him quite the front row observation post. He has left me wondering how the same kitty who gets worked up if any other cat innocently meanders within fifty feet of our yard can sit there so passively when he is watching these two monsters try and takeover all of the Como Park area at the same time they are coming ever so close to the very head of the same being who is responsible for putting out his delectable meal every day. I'm not so much disappointed in him as I am curious to know how he picks his irritations. Doesn't he even care that the crows have certainly limited the variety in what he sees? Their presence has impacted the amount of sparrows, robins and other birds we are used to seeing. He acts as if this is just yet another example of flaky behavior from the one he has lived with for the past eight years. Maybe I shouldn't take it so personal, what with the recent steamy weather and all maybe he's just wondering as I am, when in the world we moved our house to downtown Manila.

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