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Chipmunks and Crisco
A friend related a story of an interesting encounter she had with nature recently.
She and her husband put up a number of tiny birdhouses in their yard in order to entice House Wrens to take up residence. Looking out her window one day, my friend noticed a House Sparrow fluttering in front of one of the houses. She didn’t think much about it at the time. Later, she happened to notice that the bird was still fluttering about at the wren house. This seemed odd. She decided to investigate the sparrow’s actions. She quickly discovered that the sparrow, in an attempt to get inside the wren house, had gotten its head stuck in the entrance hole and was unable to free itself. Now some folks would not be very concerned about the plight of a House Sparrow. Many people consider them an avian gang member of the worst kind. Most folks would probably clear the entrance hole by dispatching the intruding sparrow in a humane way, but not my friend. Her heart is much to warm for such actions. Her heart is big enough to have room for even the lowly sparrow. She tried to wriggle the brown bird out of the confining hole, but the wooden house refused to loosen its headlock. She thought fast and retreated to her kitchen. She came back out with a can of Crisco. She greased up the head feathers of the struggling sparrow. After a bit of feather dressing was applied, the sparrow’s head popped free. She released the sparrow in her yard. The last she saw of it, the bird was busy preening and trying to de-grease itself. I am sure it was attempting to figure out what in the world had just happened to it.
This is probably how avian alien abduction stories start.
This story reminded me of a day at my house, the Batt Cave, some years ago.
I came home in the evening after playing in a softball game. Our faithful canine companion—Gus, at that time—was on the deck, staring into the house through the patio door. I thought it a little strange, but then he was an extremely strange dog. I figured he just wanted into the house.
I walked into our abode. I stopped in the kitchen to find myself some cranberry juice to quench my thirst. After pouring a glass of the stuff, I walked into the living room to see what had gone on during my absence.
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