dejadrew

My father is coping with a small issue at his beloved bird feeder.

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Dad: "They're eating a whole block of suet a day! Is something wrong? Are they starving?! They never used to eat that much suet!"

Me: "Dad. I'm pretty sure it's just the demographic shift."

Dad: "What do you mean?" 

Me: "Last year, what was the kind of bird you most commonly got?" 

Dad: "Mostly my little chickadee buddies." 

Me: "And what's out there now?"

Dad: "Three whiskey jacks, two magpies, a downy and a hairy woodpecker, and a flock of jays."

Me: "Dad. Every single one of those birds are meat eaters. They crave fleeeesh."

Dad: "... Ohh."

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So yeah all the insectivores and meat inclined omnivores are eating dad out of house and home. He's having to cut them off at two blocks of suet a week for budget purposes.

They are exceedingly cranky about it. Some of them turn to the seeds instead, with greater or lesser success. I feel guilty for laughing, but woodpeckers were never made to eat seeds off a flat surface. Watching one "cling" sideways and try to hammer up some seeds as they keep sticking away from its beak. They look so exasperated. THIS TREE IS SIDEWAYS AND THIS FOOD IS MOVING. HORIZONTAL SURFACES ARE STUPID.

We'll see how long Dad holds out. He's a sucker for avian guilt trips.

Taking a walk around the lake, I was struck by how different people's reactions to wildlife can be. A few weeks ago, ursulav posted to her lj about a bobcat sighting in LA, and how her agent's response was to freak out and ask if she had a gun.

My reaction to THAT was indignance. Probably because I did most of my growing up, and still live, in a semi-rural area in the foothills. I was taught from a very early age the various conflicting theories regarding how to deal with BEARS. ("Make noise!" "Don't make noise!" "Play dead!" "They're freakin' carrion eaters!" "Climb a tree!" "Dude, the bear's a better climber than you'll ever be." The general consensus I've managed to glean is stay calm and try not to look edible.) The neighbourhood cork-board holds missives regarding community picnics, babysitters for hire, and recent cougar sightings.

We supposedly have bobcats and lynxes, but I've never seen one, because the things are nocturnal and skittish as hell. They eat VOLES. And bunnies. I'm bigger than a bunny. I figure I have very little to fear from the smaller wildcats, so long as I don't try to pet one or something.

Ditto for the coyotes. Every so often I get a mass-e-mailing from the university saying "ALERT! A coyote has been sighted near campus! Remain calm!"

You see a lot of coyotes in my neighbourhood. Most coyotes you'll meet are smart, lazy opportunists. They want maximum food for minimum effort. Generally, standing your ground and looking stern convinces them that bugging you is too much work:

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Coyote: (wanders into campsite looking hopeful)

Me: "Don't even THINK about it."

Coyote: (wanders off looking resigned)

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So yeah, the animals that seem to freak out the city-mouse folk? Don't really frighten me.

The animals that do?

Geese.

Canada geese.

Don't laugh. We have a big flock near here, and while I like 'em well enough, I would never cross the beasties. Those suckers are MEAN. And cranky. And they could break your arm with a wing. I have never met a single person who has been attacked by a coyote. But I had a friend who was chased all the way home on her bike by an angry goose. Apparently, the sound of a bike horn bears a remarkable resemblance to goose language for "Up yours, pillow stuffing! Your mother humps mallards!" The translation is approximate, of course, but extrapolating from the gander's reaction, it's pretty close.

And CITY geese are worse. They're even less afraid of people, and they'll just stand in front of you, blocking the sidewalk and honking menacingly.

I find myself using those techniques I learned for dealing with bears: Chattering in a polite friendly manner while backing slowly away...

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Me: Good evening!

Goose: HONK.

Me: Yes, and a very nice honk to you too.

Goose: HONK.

Me: Nice honk we're having, isn't it?

Goose: (flaps wings threateningly)

Me: Oh god please don't hurt me.


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So, those were my thoughts as I was walking my dog past the lake, trying to keep him from chasing them and thus inviting aquatic avian retribution. A country upbringing gives you a very different perspective on wildlife threat assessment.