It’s time for three more tidbits from The Nest’s week that was… and not one of them will include my ER visit last Sunday morning for what turned out to be cellulitis! I’m fine…. don’t worry… and it just made my already planned five day staycation this past week even more interesting.
After a bit of a rainy pattern in late April and early May, the weather this week was cooler than normal, but otherwise beautiful. I took advantage Thursday to get out to the park and add to my squirrel photo collection… one of which you already saw in yesterday’s Saturday Squirrel.
I already had the story in my head as I was taking it…
As an antisocial introvert, I utterly HATE running into people I know out in public… particularly when I appear to be an escaped mental patient looking up in trees at the park and taking seemingly random photos of nothing. So I got a chill down my spine when I was minding my own business and all of a sudden heard, “Bill? Is that you?”
Who wants to know?
I didn’t recognize the lady at all…. not that that means anything. I’m better at recognizing people I haven’t seen in a while by their voices and not their faces…
“Aren’t you Bill that used to work here?”
As in working at the park? No, thank goodness…. now go away! It’s a bit scary to know I might have a doppelganger that even shares my first name, though…
I guess I could get confused with worse Bills…
I stopped at Mickey Dee’s for lunch on my way back home from the park. No order screw up this time, but I was behind this vehicle in the drive thru…
Good to know you have a kid into bestiality!
Seriously? This brings back bad memories of when I’d bring my Dad over to my house after Thursday lunch, and he’d call Ody his grandson. I know a lot of pet owners love to use the familial relationship with their animals, and that’s fine….. for them. But it’s always made me cringe. Maybe that’s just the “I’ll never be a parent” in me talking, but I don’t consider my cat to be my child, nor myself to be a father to my cat. Doesn’t mean I don’t love him… my bond with Ody has actually gotten closer since Biskit died and left the two of us alone. But he’s no son of mine, and I’ve long been on record with that…
The only time I want to hear the word “furbaby” is in one of my comics.
I hate birds, but….
I don’t owe you any rent, jackoff!
I’m pretty sure this robin is the bird who was desperately trying to build a nest behind my porch light a few weeks ago, and I kept pulling out the stuffing when I’d find it. So she moved operations over to the downspout next to my garage door… and I caught her sitting in (and maybe on) her pride and joy when I returned from my walk Wednesday. I don’t really take kindly to birds squatting on my property, but I didn’t have the heart to evict her…
Evil Squirrel's Nest 
I only call my cat my “kid” for purposes of our blog which is cutesy and requires poetic license much of the time. I never had kids – not on purpose but by circumstances so cats have been the closest thing to having a kid (other than my first husband I guess) I’ve had in my life. Thanks for letting the robin do her thing on your downspout (why does that sound sexual??) – she obviously decided your house was a safe place since I bet you don’t have a lot of traffic in and out or activity in the yard. You get some points for having a heart!!!!! Happy Sunday.
Pam
Yeah right on the traffic through my yard! As the house whose yard connects to the street behind me, and with no fence, I’ve always been a popular (and unwilling) shortcut for people… particularly the kids a couple houses down (The same ones who go through cats [PK, Gypsy] like tissue). If that robin was an attack bird…. heck, I’d buy her some birdseed. I’d love to see those brats pecked within an inch of their lives!
Uh, well gee. I’m not ashamed of calling Ziggy my ‘fur kid’ (never fur baby. That’s just wrong on a lot of levels). In fact, last week being Mother’s Day with all the attendant shame heaped upon those of us (of the female gender in Utah anyway) who never procreated, I sent myself a Happy Mother’s Day card from him. He’s as close as I’m gonna get to a child, as were my numerous other fuzzies over the years. Love is love dude. And not in a nasty triple X porno way neither.
Now as to the birdie in the nest? Good on ya! If you were closer, I’d see if she’d (I think that’s the male Robin though, females are more drab in appearance) allow her digs to be moved over to my domicile because I have a thing for robins and they don’t appear up here very often. Too many predators I think. Red in tooth and claw. Robins are known to be highly territorial and will attack creatures (including two legs) encroaching on their turf, so you might get your wish about the attack bird idea. At the very least he/she might let loose with a little bird poo on the head or shoulder of the next moronic kid trampling through your yard.
As I said, to each their own with the pet parent thing. I just cringe when it’s projected on me. I love the vet staff at my clinic, but stop calling me that cat’s daddy!
I’d be more than happy to transport Miss Robin your way if I knew she wouldn’t peck her way out of the package. I’m pretty sure she has some more friends freeloading off of my house, since I hear the telltale flapping of bird wings just outside my computer room window as well.
I have read somewhere how someone trained a certain kind of bird to attack a certain human – I think it had something to do with being nice to the bird first and then they defend the human that was nice to them against another human. Won’t help you with those moronic kids – against those you’d have to dig ditches, hide them under a thin blanket of lawn – and on the bottom you’d have to install pikes. But I bet that is even illegal in the US.
When I’m annoyed with our pets they are automatically referred to as “your son/daughter” when speaking to my husband. I’d like to think no child of mine would shred the armchair, but what do I know?
And how is it possible you love squirrels but hate birds. Look at that precious momma robin.
❣️
As someone who didn’t have a garage until 2009 and had to park under a tree, birds have been on my (literal) shit list for a long time. The final straw though was when I fell in love with squirrels, and realized the crazy lengths many people go through to keep them out of birdfeeders. That kind of backyard favoritism turned me against birds for good…
I embrace all nibblers… even the skunks. Except for a certain red bitch who shall remain nameless…
Cellulitis is painful as hell! I had it years back in my thigh, from a fucking spider bite!
I have a “I love my grandcat” sticker on my car…I hope you don’t think less of me.
Until I saw that sticker, I’d never even heard of “grandpets” before.
I can’t think less of you, because I know what I’ll get……. SLAP!
Yep, a slap and a smack!!
I do love my “grandcat” as he is a sweet little bastard.
Your blog cracks me up so much 😆 Ended on a pretty wholesome note ❤️ I’m glad to hear you’re okay and I hope you recover very soon 🙂
Thanks! And be sure to tune in this Sunday for even more wholesomeness!
Oh, you do like birds!
The only birds I like are on the middle digits of both my front paws…
You could set up a webcam and live streaming on that bird. Apparently people love to sit all day watching a bird do nothing in the hopes a chick will appear…
That would have been a great suggestion…. if I had a webcam. And given…. well, see for yourself on Sunday!
I am absolutely with you on the “my pet is not a human’s kid or grandkid”-party. Just not right. They are no fur-babies, either. Cats are kittens, when they are young. not baby-kittens … *shudders And Cats when grown up. With a capital C, yes. Like you’d write Elizabeth II with a capital E.
I don’t even capitalize Squirrels. Probably won’t be doing that anytime soon for cats… unless we’re talking about the musical.
Well, they are our feline overlords, so it would only be fair.
Umm, not to add more rain to your weather parade, but that’s not a ‘she’ – it’s a male. Females don’t have red/orange breasts. One year I had some sparrows build a nest in a Christmas garland I had neglected to take down and had to wait until the baby peepers flew the nest in early summer. They squawked at me every time I came out the door.
And here I almost always default to male, but I assumed it was a mother robin making a nest for her eggs. I guess the guys need a man-nest, too…
😇
I just got dive bombed by one of those fuckers who has successfully built a nest on top of our motion light on the back deck. I keep waiting for Dog Blossom or one of the cats to actually catch her.
Good luck. We used to have a cat that was excellent at catching birds…. and rabbits…. and, ugh, squirrels. She also wasn’t afraid to take on dogs ten times her size.