A peacock sure looks sad when half his feathers are gone.
But we were very happy to see him atop our swing at sunset.
Maybe Black Dog was inside tonight.
Somehow, Mr. Bird found his way home, dragging his paltry feathers behind him.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Dog prompts Mr. Bird to move a bit
The papayas are taking over Manny's front yard, so I picked one and brought it inside. Turns out, though, that we're not that crazy about these papayas. They're good in a smoothie, but this one sat on the counter for a few days until I decided it would be a treat for Mr. Bird
That night I watched as the sun went down for the right moment to thrust this lovely orange fruit, split open with ruby-colored seeds spilling out, in Mr. Bird's pathway to his perch.
Only he didn't come.
A walk later that night turned up the usual neighborhood hub-bub about his activities. The Greek woman and her visiting sister explained that a large loose black dog (relatively new to the neighborhood) had scared him and he had flown a remarkable distance. (He ended up on the rooftop of the house across the street from our old house.)
Sophia (the German) strode up and dramatized the story with gestures and a heavy accent.
The guy who lives in the house with the dog came out, too. He's 20-something and overly friendly, the way drunk people can be. He went on effusively about his roommate. ("She's moving to Manhattan, man. Makes over $100,000 a year. She's the the marketing person behind Crocs. Got any money to invest. Man, invest in Crocs. You gotta see the new commericals she's making. She's got that guy from the Rolling Stones -- you know, not Mick Jagger, the other one," -- Keith Richards? I asked and he enthusiastically agreed -- "and Madonna and ....")
He wasn't too concerned about Mr. Bird, who spent the night on the rooftop.
Next evening, we watched and waited to see if he'd come "home." And he did! Whew. He showed no interest in his papaya, however, which I had been saving for him.
And then last night, again no bird!
Again, we walked in search of him, but this time we didn't spot him and we did not run into any chatty neighbors.
So tonight we decided to head out earlier, while it was still light enough to spot him.
And we did.
He was roosting on the railing of the dock at our OLD house. His tail feathers -- what's left of them after extensive molting -- hang down right over open water (I hope he doesn't sleepwalk!) and he's not very high off the ground.
We hope he's safe there.
We did notice that Black Dog was on a leash in his front yard, so perhaps Mr. Bird is afraid to go past him to get to his old roost at our house.
I hope Croc-genius moves soon, and takes Black Dog with her!
That night I watched as the sun went down for the right moment to thrust this lovely orange fruit, split open with ruby-colored seeds spilling out, in Mr. Bird's pathway to his perch.
Only he didn't come.
A walk later that night turned up the usual neighborhood hub-bub about his activities. The Greek woman and her visiting sister explained that a large loose black dog (relatively new to the neighborhood) had scared him and he had flown a remarkable distance. (He ended up on the rooftop of the house across the street from our old house.)
Sophia (the German) strode up and dramatized the story with gestures and a heavy accent.
The guy who lives in the house with the dog came out, too. He's 20-something and overly friendly, the way drunk people can be. He went on effusively about his roommate. ("She's moving to Manhattan, man. Makes over $100,000 a year. She's the the marketing person behind Crocs. Got any money to invest. Man, invest in Crocs. You gotta see the new commericals she's making. She's got that guy from the Rolling Stones -- you know, not Mick Jagger, the other one," -- Keith Richards? I asked and he enthusiastically agreed -- "and Madonna and ....")
He wasn't too concerned about Mr. Bird, who spent the night on the rooftop.
Next evening, we watched and waited to see if he'd come "home." And he did! Whew. He showed no interest in his papaya, however, which I had been saving for him.
And then last night, again no bird!
Again, we walked in search of him, but this time we didn't spot him and we did not run into any chatty neighbors.
So tonight we decided to head out earlier, while it was still light enough to spot him.
And we did.
He was roosting on the railing of the dock at our OLD house. His tail feathers -- what's left of them after extensive molting -- hang down right over open water (I hope he doesn't sleepwalk!) and he's not very high off the ground.
We hope he's safe there.
We did notice that Black Dog was on a leash in his front yard, so perhaps Mr. Bird is afraid to go past him to get to his old roost at our house.
I hope Croc-genius moves soon, and takes Black Dog with her!
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