Remember what it was like here before 2.0 and I moved in? I do.
There were no bird feeders. Now there are three. We fill them with seeds and peanuts and other bird treats. There was no heated bird bath here last year, but 2.0 got
me you one for Christmas because I read that water is hard to find in the winter, and I was worried about you. I doubt anyone made suet for you before we moved in, but now you’ve got me to fill your bellies with cranberries, peanut butter and fat. I make it in the mornings before I go to work, and put it out for you on cold days.
We’ve been reading about the flowers that you like best, and we’ve planned our gardens accordingly. We watched you sitting on the coneflowers last fall, so we’re planting more for you. (We could tell you liked the seeds.) We’ve provided you with bird houses, sheltered nooks and crannies, and lovely trees to hide in. We don’t complain when you eat the grapes we’ve got growing on our deck; we happily share with you. We love you, Birds.
How many times have I chased the neighbourhood cats away in my pyjamas? I know you’ve seen me. The whole street has seen me running around the yard in my red flannel pjs. And we never, ever let our kitties chase you. No, we keep them inside. We’ve seen you taunting them through the dining room window.
And despite all of this, you pooped on my sweater yesterday. It was hanging on the line. You pooped on my sweater, the blue sheets with the ribbon trim, and my pink t-shirt.
I am very disappointed, Birds.
Yours not so truly,