Thursday, March 9, 2006

Nothing of extreme interest. The myriad of warbling, screeching, twittering and whistling birds in my yard is distracting. Cats seem to like all the noise but I don't guess they'd have a clue what to do after catching one of the feathery minstrels.

When I was a kid, my mother and I always went to whatever job site my dad and brother worked at the time. Once, when I was about 15 or so, I found a baby robin, all wrinkly skin and nearly-feathers. Because baby birds eat so very often, I had to bring him with me when we came to Dallas. When Mom and I would run errands for my dad, I'd have the bird in my lap and every turn, Mom would say "hold on to your britches!" Seemed a good name for the little fella. I don't know why, I always assumed Britches was a boy. Anyway. Britches loved saltine crackers and bugs. As he grew older, he learned to love soggy dog food. After he was fully grown, I started letting him out of his cage. He'd fly away and be gone for hours and then come back for free food. For about 2 years after he left the last time, he would come back occasionally and sit on the trailer parked in the back yard, waiting for me to throw out some dog food for him.

Since then, I've always had a thing for robins. I'm so glad my back yard is full of them.

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