Bob’s fury is based in the fact that they, the wee furry grey bastards, keep getting into the food he leaves out for the birds. He works hard at putting the right mix of sunflower seeds, cracked corn, white millet, peanuts, squash seeds and stale bread out there so that the Blue Jays and Cardinals are regular visitors.
Yeah, we get the flash fowl but, more often, we have these fat fucking rodents waddling around the yard, chowing down like pre-game Steelers' fans with Pimanti Bros. deluxe double egg and cheese sandwiches in their grasp.
We quit putting up nice bird feeders after a few collapsed under their weight.
Why does Oni hate the varmints? Eh, I guess a few got into the basement and started redecorating with tiny turds instead of chintz curtains and danish modern side tables. He finally got them moved over to a lovely split level on Sea Street though -- so, ya know, it all worked out.
You should see Bob and Oni in summer. We’ll all be chilling on the veranda, watching the tide come and go, listening to the WEEI broadcast of the Sox getting their asses kicked, when, all of a sudden, giant rubber bands go flying, super soakers are brandished. Our menfolk are AT WAR!
Fluffy varmints scamper up trees. Jen and I put noses back in books. Our warriors go back to the game.
It’s an exciting life.
Below are two email exchanges between Bob and I. Notes from the front and all.
Me: I was reading that cardinals and blue jays prefer feeding platforms. I wonder what I can build that won't be overrun by squirrels.
The Amazing Bob: How about a feeding platform that accommodates birds and bird food
but all around the edges are sharp poisoned spikes and flame throwers and so on?
Me: Works for me. We'll have to ask the blue jays and cardinals what they think of the plan.
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TAB: Just heard a noise on porch. Went out, saw that a squirrel had pushed the squash
off the porch rail and was eating at it. I never have a nuclear weapon handy when I need it.
Me: I'm so sorry Hunny Bunny. Maybe Santa will bring you a Fat Boy for Christmas this year.
TAB: It's amazing you know that. I've also heard it called Original Child Bomb,
but more often Fat Boy. I love the way you know all these little but important things.
Me: Maybe I have that wrong and it's Fat Man and Little Boy (his faithful Indian companion). And yeah, my head is a jam packed store house of misremembered minutiae.
TAB: I love that you know what I'm talking about without me having to supply Cliff Notes.
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