treehat: (Rhys - Irritated (with fez))
Man, I've really fallen behind on posting here. Ahem. Anyway.

Now that spring's here, the birds are out in droves. All chirping and pecking about and generally being birdy. Including a certain returning dimwit robin. Hurrah, Mr. Thudnk's back.

Honestly, I'm amazed he's still alive. We try to keep him from flying into the window, but he stubbornly refuses to take a hint. About the only thing that's worked slightly is playing loud music with the window open - and there's only so much of that I can handle. And as soon as it's off, well, THUDNK.

Birds are built much tougher than I thought. I'd have expected him to have broken something after doing this for three years. But he seems perfectly healthy, if not particularly sharp.

Oh well. Poor guy - pretty as a flower and nearly as smart.
The stickers are still proving completely useless in deterring Mr. Thudnk from his glass assaults. The next step was, of course, incredibly logical.

Bring out the plastic owl!

It works for about 10 minutes each day. Thudnk will start his bombing run, then abort when he sees the glass eyes staring out of plastic sockets at him. Eventually, though, he realizes that the owl isn't actually alive, and so resumes the cacophony. We get the 10 minute rest whenever the the owl is moved, but that gets old fast. So we hung it on the tree branch with a string.

Ignore, if you will, that this means the owl is hovering four feet off the ground. True, it might not make for realism, but I'm sure it adds quite a bit of creepiness. An owl sitting on the ground is one thing, but when it's hovering in the air, slowly twirling, you know that bird is one you don't want to mess around with.

For the record, I still think we should install lasers in its eyes. Fear the plastic cyborg owl!

Anyway, he's gotten less active recently, but I think that's more tied to the temperature drop. It's hard to idiotically attack things when you're cold. Some things are just more important.

I also think this bird has a grudge against us. One day, when he was doing his Thudnking, I fired the foam-disc/sound-effect gun at him. He just turned his back to me and squatted down on the branch, and then turned his head, and I swear, the bastard glared at me. I'm being given the evil eye by a bloody thrush!
Spring's here, which means the birds are out in full force. Unfortunately, this also heralds the return of the irritating, idiotic, bloody-minded avian anomaly with a vendetta against the rightmost dining room window.

Mr. Thudnk is back. Which means the War On Turdus is still being waged.

At first it was cute, in an "Awww, look at that. That's the most idiotic bird I've ever seen, but he still remembers the window he was attacking." That lasted all of five minutes. From there, the continuous "thudnk thudnk fwip-wip-wip flutter-flutter dink thid thudnk flap" has grown irritating. Having reached wit's end, we are doubtless mere days away from insanity. I fear that Fox News Noise will soon become enjoyable, no doubt leading to a complete failure of all upper brain functions. Thus, we have tried to take matters into our own hands.

First, we waved a newspaper at him. That worked for a minute. Then, we sounded a noisemaker in his general direction, but he didn't flinch. Next up was the air cannon, which didn't even seem to ruffle his feathers. Now, we've tried stickers of larger birds, but he just ignored them. Not surprising, since those are just the keep birds from attacking their own reflection, and Turdusblossom here keeps launching attacks from an angle where he couldn't possibly see his reflection!

We are seriously considering borrowing our neighbor's cat.
Mr. Thudnk has eluded all attempts to stop him from crashing into the window. We believe he may be aided by anti-glass conspirators.

This has progressed from a small skirmish with a bird to an all-out battle against the feathered fiend. Today, in the morning, we thought that removing the screen from the window might take care of the reflection issue. Mr. Thudnk took no notice. So, we replaced the screen and taped a garishly colorful napkin left over from my birthday yesterday. Not that it mattered much:
Ooh, pretty colors! But that won't distract me, nope. I PECK AT THEE! *THUNDK*
Time for the secret weapon, the color-based warfare method code-named "Blue Ribbon"*. We tacked it to the outside frame of the window, where it went to work.
. . . And immediately proceeded to get caught in the rain gutter. (Damn new technology, never acts like it should.) That was fixed shortly, and it promptly leapt into action!
. . . Which, of course, had no effect whatsoever:
Ahg! What's this fluttery thingy-ma-doohickey? It must be that other bird's tactic. But he won't stop me! I cannot be distracted by such petty things. CHAAAARGE! *THUNDK* *THUDNK*

We are now up to IBCON** 2.

* Okay, so really it's just a blue ribbon. But that doesn't sound as impressive, does it? No, no it doesn't.
** Irritating Bird Condition
Here we are, on day two of our continuing coverage of Mr. Thudnk, sponsored by Karl Marx's left nostril.

...Yes, he's back, and still at it. So, what happened now? Well, early this morning, our feathered windowbasher returned. Now, I thought he was persistent before, but today he showed just how obsessed he was. Alright, so bright and early, he starts attacking the window. *THUDNK ... THUDNK ... THUDNK* Now, by this point, it was just getting ridiculous. First thing we did was to open the window, hoping he wouldn't see his reflection. Failure:
Ah, where'd you go? I know you're around here somewhere. *flutter-flutter* AH-HA! There you are! KAMIKAZE! *THUDNK*
Alright, so that didn't work. By now, we'd had quite enough of this, so we went right to the root of the problem. Well, not so much the root as the branch. A quick snip with the branch-cutters and problem solved, right? Nope:
Aiiieee! Where's my branch? I loved that branch. I was going to call it Carl. Ah well, this one here works just as well. Now, where was I? Ah, yes. I AM BECOME BIRD, DESTROYER OF WINDOWS!
So, a short bit later, and snippity-do-da goes the other branch. It seemed we'd solved our problem at last! Until around ten o'clock this morning, that is. We were finishing breakfast when from the dining room came the infamous THUDNK:
First Carl, and now Phil! Damn you! You can take my branches, but you'll never take my freedom! CHIIIIIIRRRRPP!*
I wonder what will happen next. We certainly can't keep cutting branches, since it obviously doesn't work and we don't want to end up with a one-sided tree.

*This is, I believe, as close to a warcry as a bird can get. It's difficult to have a warcry that strikes fear in panes of glass when all you can really do is make pleasent chirping sounds.
So. I've been gone a month and a half. It's fascinating, really, how when you swear off blogs and journals, your interest in them seems to triple. So, on that note, here's a couple links to enjoy before today's anecdote.

The BSG cast, Simpsons-style.

"I can't control the Rainbow Doom!"

In other news, we have a robin outside the dining room that isn't quite right in the head. At all. Here's what I think his though process must be:
*yawn* What a wonderful day! Time to build a nest... Hey! Who are you? Get out of my tree!
At this point, he attacks the "other" bird.
*flap-flap THUDNK flap-flap-flap* Hey! Get outta my tree, you twit! *flap-flap THUDNK flap-flap THUDNK THUD flap-flap-flap*
Repeat about fifty times. Nowhere, during any of this, does he stop or realize he is attacking his own reflection. So, after getting irritated by the constant *THUDNK ... THUDNK ... THUDNK ... THUDNK* all morning, we try to scare him off. It continues:
Ack! Big person! I'll just flap over to the next branch until they go away... It's you again! Die, bird! *THUDNK*
It. Never. Stopped. Eventually, after lunch, I grabbed my cheap air cannon and walked outside to do battle with Mr. Thudnk. For his own good, of course. Not that he would listen to reason:
*THUDNKYDUNK* Eh? Who's that? Eek! It has a ... um ... uhh ... large blackish thing. I'll just flap over to the other branch. *SWOOOSH* Hm, nice breeze. Oh, he's still there. I'll hop over here. That's odd. Those leaves just moved. Damn, he's still there. Alright, then, I'll hop over . . . HERE!
Repeat a few more times. (It should be noted I never managed to hit Mr. Thudnk, since both the air cannon and myself are incredibly innaccurate.) I gave up and went inside, and the THUDNKing resumed the nanosecond the door closed. About an hour later, we decided it was time to bring out the big guns. So we got out the cruise-missle of bird scaring: a Boston Pops CD. After a few seconds of that, he scurried off across the yard. Victory!

...Nope. He came back shortly after the music was done. So he continued on with it, going THUDNK ... THUD ... THIDNK ... THUDNK ... THUDNK. I think he's still going.
All the while, poor Mr. Thudnk is thinking You bloody persistant bird! Why won't you give up?
He is a birdbrain among birdbrains.


treehat: Block print of a tree. (Default)

August 2011

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