Battle with the birds

by Katie on February 12, 2011

So, it’s a very well known fact that I do not like birds. At all.

Well…we have these little holes under our porch spanning the length of our house, and quite a few of them have lost their mesh-wire covering, which keeps things out. Things like birds.

Since they no longer have this covering, they have been inhabited. By birds.

Now, I bought new mesh-stuff to recover these holes a while back, and even got all the squares I needed cut out. But I stopped there because I have a dilemma with the whole situation.

On one hand, the mere thought of digging into those holes to pull out nests, feathers, eggs and maybe an angry mama bird just really creeps me out. I just got chills all the way down my spine typing that. Seriously.

On the other hand, the thought of just going out there and covering the holes isn’t all that appealing to me either. Because that means any bird eggs in there will rot, and any birds will die a slow death up there with no food or water. And then I have to live beneath rotten eggs and dead birds. Which I imagine will leak an odor out onto our porch at some point as well.

See my dilemma?

A few weeks ago, though, we were having quite a few guests over and doing all sorts of little projects around here in preparation. I spent an entire two weeks psyching myself up to get rid of the birds. Not only do I hate the fact we are providing bird habitat, but they leave a mess all over their porch, right beneath their holes – like they’re nest-trained or something. It drives me crazy.

I already had about ten small projects on the list Brandon thought were just ridiculous to be worrying about when we had big things to do to. And a fast-approaching deadline.

The day before our gathering, when I finally felt like I could actually climb on a ladder and be face-to-face with a bird nest, I asked Brandon, “Hey, do you think if I got the wheelbarrow, and put on those big, heavy-duty rubber gloves the guys used to pour concrete, that I could reach in those holes and pick out all those nests? Or do you think mama birds will come out and attack me if I try?”

“Yes, the mama birds will eat your fingers if you stick them in there. I wouldn’t do it,” he said.

“Really!?” I asked, kind of surprised. And very thankful I had consulted an expert before taking on a task like that.

“Yes,” he said, “But ask me another day, after everything else you want to do around here is checked off your little list, …and I may have a different answer. But for now, the mama birds will attack you.”

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