Black Sheep Brainchild

Birds and I have a…complicated…relationship.

Love/hate? Love/love? Hate/hate? I am unsure which and, truthfully, it probably varies at any given time.

I have yet another incident to add to my odd collection of interactions with the animals.

Recently, while camping, I went to get something out of my new Subaru (love this baby, Seraphina, and this is sort of relevant to my reaction) and a weird sound gave me pause.

(Now, I am always – ALWAYS – on the lookout for buzzing noises and erratic flight movements of wasp-sized and colored creatures. I joke that I “sort of have a phobia to them”, a statement to which my father gives me a sidelong look and mutters, in his dry way, “sort of?” What can I say? I have issues.)

My first instinct was to shrink away from the trunk, hissing in a sharp intake of breath as my eyes frantically searched for the source of whatever had alerted me.

thunk

There it was again. Something hitting a window and the unmistakable sound of winged flight.

And then a flash of movement sent my panic careening in an entirely different direction.

This was not a black and yellow tinyish blob bonking into the windows trying to find an exit.

Nope.

This was white. Light brown. Much larger than the wasp in my mind’s eye. And it was covered in feathers.

I stumbled back further, somehow avoiding the cement parking block at my feet, and shrieked loudly.

“THERE’S A BIRD IN MY CAR!”

And what reaction does my fearful declaration receive.

The first sound I hear over my heart beating in my ears and the flurry of wings once again crossing my car amidst the front seats – is laughter. Because of course.

At least I also hear my spouse making his way toward me from around the trees as a friend from a campsite across the way calls out “There really is!” Their voice is a mixture of surprise and amusement as well.

I stumbled back further, frustrated that nobody seems as flustered as I am. “Why?! Get – ! Augh! I (intelligible noises)” I am really good at partial phrases and gibberish when I panic. Thankfully the aforementioned, frustratingly SLOW, spouse is also good at translating. He passes me on the way to the car and I see him halt as he examines the scene of the crime.

As if sensing an audience, the bird chooses that moment to frantically bash it’s body against the driver’s door window in a futile attempt at attaining freedom.

Shaking their head, my spouse looks at me and walks calmly, and still exacerbatingly slowly, to the front passenger door, grunting in what I am sure is awe of how my life is full of battles with nature. As he does this, I stagger to my right and keep moving backward – eager to witness the end of my terror but not enough so to get closer.

The bird makes a break for it, zooming out the freshly opened portal and off into the distance.

And of course I shriek and flinch even further away, drawing my leg up protectively in front of me as I twist to also get my arms up front in case I need to battle this now-known danger if it comes at me. Which it does not – a fact that did not lessen my reaction any.

Spouse looks at me and shakes their head again, huffing in amusement, as I, despite witnessing the escape, implore if the creature is gone.

And yeah – it pooped on the driver’s seat. Because if course it did.

———–

This incident has now been added to my mental catalogue featuring similar outrageous incidents, not the least of which are the time a seagull flew into the back of my head (setting off my first ever panic attack and fear of flighted things) and the time we were driving down the road amd some birds at the edge took off – and PLOP! – something wet and cold hit my face – something I at first thought to be bird poop but, to my horror, was worse. Way worse. An earthworm slid down my skin and landed in my bra (also cue panic attack)…but that is another story for another time.

And yet, somehow, I had totally forgotten about this event for an entire week because life is insane. How do you forget being attacked by birds? I swear they have a vendetta against me. Maybe there is even a reward for which one can finally take me out. Bird mafia. I may be in to something there…