All About Avians

Our spring weather arrives in such a hurry that much of the wildlife is in the sort of frenzy not seen around here til the last time the woman discovered her timepiece had vanished into the manure pile. None are more frantic than the various avians who are building, marrying, producing eggs and foraging for all sorts of revolting food (a lot of it involves worms).

Last week the woman took Molly on one of their forest jaunts and apparently the place was a hive of activity on all fronts, including aquatic. The aquatic life attracts a bird that is nearly as tall as a human and is called, so I understand, a Great Blue Herring. It looks bluish, preoccupied and disheveled - something like an elderly professor. It finds the frog residents to be the equivalent of stud muffins and seeks them relentlessly, Meanwhile the frog chorus booms out so loudly that no one can hear a thing. And that is how it came about that Molly chugged around a corner and nearly onto one of these Herring things. It said "Awwwwpppp" and began to slowly flap it's wings, It staggered into the air, just clearing the woman's head and covering them both in shadow. Fortunately it pulled up the undercarriage enough to miss the top of the pudding basin the woman wears on her head. If she had been basin-less the poor Herring would have become permanently entangled in the shrubbery she calls hair and would have spent the rest of it's life like one of those unfortunate birds on a Victorian hat.

On Sunday, two other large avians landed in our paddock and declared they might be interested in homesteading. They had a muted grey and beige colour scheme and black points. Oddly they must both have had toothache because they looked like they were sporting white handerchiefs around their chins. They were loud and bossy and strutted around poking their beaks here and there. We studied them for awhile and then Doc had had enough and charged at them, ears pinned back. They heaved themselves airborne and departed, throwing insults over their shoulders. The humans called them Canada Geese but I don't know how they can tell - those birds had no paperwork with them whatsoever.

Also in our paddock, we have dozens of crows who hold court in the treetops, screeching and squawking like so many fish mongers. Like TJ, they are attracted by anything shiny and have littered our premises with various candy and gum wrappers. Jack calls them "trailer trash flyers". I'm afraid they're here to stay, interrupting our nap times and dropping refuse on us. The wrappers are useless to a donkey'; they make our teeth sting.

On a bright note, the religious humans came by today and were leaning on the top fence rail, thrusting a magazine at the woman when Doc noticed them. He was delighted. He bellowed his welcome and galloped over. They appeared stunned, the more so when he grabbed the magazine and tore it in half. They left in rather a hurry and poor Doc was devastated. We live in fear that he will be lured into a cult one of these days and we will then have to do an intervention or what Jack calls an "interference".