This afternoon, as we enjoyed a cup of coffee at Georgia Tech’s Ferst Center just before the Audra McDonald concert, we saw something that would have warmed the cockles of Eric’s heart.
[Just what are Heart-Cockles anyway? And why is warming them generally considered to be a good thing? Are they naturally cold? But I digress...]
It was a mockingbird in full Birdly Fury, attacking a squirrel for some reason unknown to us.
We can only speculate as to what got the bird pissed off at Mr. Acornpants. Perhaps it was the desire to demonstrate solidarity with all the birds who are screwed out of Bird Feeder meals by the wily squirrels who steal their food. Perhaps the squirrel - inadvertently or not - wandered too close to the bird’s nest, threatening its young birdlings.
Regardless, the squirrel was having a hard time of it. Rocky the Flying Squirrel might’ve stood a chance, but not this unassuming land-bound grey fellow. The bird was knocking the crap out of him.
How humiliating. The worst part of being smacked around by a mockingbird, of course, is the taunting. You can be sure that that bird was ragging on Mr. Squirrel’s ass, talking trash like an NBA player:
“Yo, man, you call that a bushy tail? That ain’t no bushy tail. Yo mama’s punani mo’ bushy than that skanky-ass tail...”
Eventually, the bird got tired of chasing his furry prey. More likely, the squirrel took off for parts unknown, too embarrassed to ever show his face in that neighborhood again.
I tell ya, Eric would have been pleased.
[Just what are Heart-Cockles anyway? And why is warming them generally considered to be a good thing? Are they naturally cold? But I digress...]
It was a mockingbird in full Birdly Fury, attacking a squirrel for some reason unknown to us.
We can only speculate as to what got the bird pissed off at Mr. Acornpants. Perhaps it was the desire to demonstrate solidarity with all the birds who are screwed out of Bird Feeder meals by the wily squirrels who steal their food. Perhaps the squirrel - inadvertently or not - wandered too close to the bird’s nest, threatening its young birdlings.
Regardless, the squirrel was having a hard time of it. Rocky the Flying Squirrel might’ve stood a chance, but not this unassuming land-bound grey fellow. The bird was knocking the crap out of him.
How humiliating. The worst part of being smacked around by a mockingbird, of course, is the taunting. You can be sure that that bird was ragging on Mr. Squirrel’s ass, talking trash like an NBA player:
“Yo, man, you call that a bushy tail? That ain’t no bushy tail. Yo mama’s punani mo’ bushy than that skanky-ass tail...”
Eventually, the bird got tired of chasing his furry prey. More likely, the squirrel took off for parts unknown, too embarrassed to ever show his face in that neighborhood again.
I tell ya, Eric would have been pleased.
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