Day 118: In Halley’s Own Words

My Project: 365 Creative Writing Prompts

Day 118: In Halley’s Own Words

Hello, my name is Halley and I’m in a whole lot of trouble. Let me tell you my story …

One day I was sitting on the ledge of the balcony, minding my own business, when I suddenly sensed movement in the bird’s nest.

Yes, would you believe it, in a household that has four cats, a pair of finches decided to raise a family. If you ask me that’s just asking for trouble. They could have picked any balcony, any balcony at all and enjoyed peace and quiet, but no, they choose to build their nest here.

Once the nest was built, mama bird dropped six eggs and then with amazing patience sat on those eggs until six chicks hatched. The parents flew back and forth with food for the little ones, judging by their peeping they were growing, and I knew it was only a matter of time before those chicks turned into proper birds.

Me, I was biding my time. While the chicks were babies they weren’t worth bothering with, toothpicks if you ask me, but I knew that in due time there would be some meat on those bones. So, I sat and I waited.

.

I didn’t have to wait long. Two days ago the baby birds were ready to fly. I watched them leave the nest and to my utter amazement, mama and papa bird were there to show them where there was a hole in the netting (in the upper left-hand corner). Those birds were smarter than I thought because four of them of them figured it out in no time.

The fifth one, however, wasn’t as clued up and landed a short distance from where I was sitting. I didn’t think twice … I made my move and grabbed the bird with my teeth.

If I thought mom would be pleased that I caught a bird I was sadly mistaken. When she saw that I had something in my mouth she said: “What you got there Halley?” When she saw it was one of the baby bird she looked shocked and said “Bad kitty cat! That’s bad Halley.”

I ran to her bedroom with my meal, but she followed me. When I ran to the bathroom, she followed me there too and closed the door. Now I had nowhere to go. “Drop it,” she commanded. “I said drop it!” So I did.

And would you believe it, when I dropped the bird she picked it up and when she saw it was dead she wrapped it in tissue paper and placed it somewhere where I couldn’t get to it. “Don’t ever do that again!” she said, wagging a finger in my face.

Don’t ever do that again? What on earth was she talking about? I’m a cat, the baby was a bird, what did she expect me to do?

Anyway, I went back outside on the balcony and sat there, sulking.

A few minutes after I got there, the sixth bird left the nest and landed on the left-hand side of the floor.

Then he flew toward the ceiling.

And then he came and sat right in front of me.

Oh, he looked so tasty. I could feel my mouth water.

So I called "Maaaaaaaaa, can I have this one?"

When she noticed that there was still one bird on the balcony, she scooped me up, brought me inside and closed the screen door to the balcony. Well, I never! Now I couldn’t even go outside anymore! How was I gonna catch this bird if I couldn’t go out? So I sat there and I thought … oh, this blows.

Eventually, the baby bird settled in one of the flower pots and remained there for the rest of the day. I could have gone out, grabbed him and ate him, but it was not to be. The door remained closed.

It got better though, or shall I saw it got worse. Much worse. When Dieter came home, mom asked him to catch the bird. YES I thought, dad is gonna catch the bird for me. I won’t have to do a thing. I’m gonna get that bird after all. Oh thank you, thank you, thank you.

Do Dieter went outside, talked to the bird, and within minutes he had him. No cat food for me tonight, I thought, I’m getting a bird. Dealing with the feathers wasn’t very appealing, but okay, I would deal with that when the time came.

And then to my astonishment, to my utter amazement, mom went outside, took a picture of the bird, and then dad raised the bird to the hole in the netting and set it free. “Nooooooooo!” I cried, ‘There goes my meal, or rather my afternoon snack.”

As I watched the baby fly toward the trees I thought with tears in my eyes … bye bye, birdie.

So that’s my sad story. My only comfort being … finches have been making their nest on our balcony for the past three years. With any luck, some birds will do the same next year and when they do, I’ll be ready. But oh dear, a whole year is such a long wait ... 

www.connymanero.weebly.com

Oh, this blows!!!

Hi, my name is Holly, and I’ll be your guest blogger for today. Unlike other bloggers who have humans write a guest post for them, I am a cat. So, whatever comes next is from a cats’ perspective. I thought I should share the following with you because I’m really, really upset.

It’s a beautiful sunny day here in Toronto and I’m not allowed to go out on the balcony. Why? One word … birds.

It all started about three months ago. A pair of finches came to check out the balcony and apparently liked what they saw because soon after they started building a nest. One of them deposited six eggs in the nest and shortly afterward six chicks were born. I didn’t care much about them because I couldn’t get to them anyway, but I could wait. 

Those chicks would grow, in due time they would leave their nest and when they did I would be ready. I’ve never caught a bird before, but come on, with six birds to choose from, I was bound to catch one.

As it turned out, I didn’t get any of the little suckers. They flew the nest while I was still sleeping. I didn’t know this at first, but during the course of the day I didn’t see the parents fly in and out anymore, nor did I hear the little ones chirping. I had missed my chance and let me tell you, I was disappointed.

As luck would have it, two or three weeks later the two finches came back. This time they didn’t have to build a nest, they used the old one, and before long there were five eggs in it.

As soon as the chicks hatched I resolved that this time I would catch one. If I had to sit on the balcony day and night, eat and sleep there, this time they wouldn’t pull a fast one on me. So I waited, and waited, and waited.

The parent finches flew to and fro, bringing food for the babies and day by day they grew. Yesterday I noticed that the babies were getting ready to fly off. They were getting too big, the nest was getting too small, and they were getting restless. Yes, soon I would have a bird for breakfast, lunch or dinner. If they weren't quite a meal, then an appetizer. 

And would you believe it, while I used the litter box today, one of those babies flew away. I could have kicked myself. All that time waiting, and now that I had turned my back for two minutes, I missed one. Never mind though, there were four more.

Unfortunately, Conny (my owner), had noticed too that the babies were getting ready to fly off, so what did she do … she closed the balcony door. Not the glass door as such, but the netting. Now I couldn’t get out!!!

I had to do something. I had to come up with a plan. Clever me, I didn’t have to think long, I would turn on the charm. I positioned myself by the balcony door and sat there for, I don’t know, five, ten, fifteen minutes. When she didn’t come to open the door for me, I looked over my shoulder and gave a soft meow. Usually, that does the trick, but not this time. She either ignored me or she wouldn’t let me out. So I meowed a little louder, with more feeling, but still nothing. When I meowed again, she said “No Holly, you can’t go out today. The birds are about to fly away.”

But that’s the whole point, I tried to say. I have to be out there so when they fly I can catch one. She shook her head and walked away. Oh for the love of all that’s good and decent, why was she doing this to me? Oh, this blows!!!

www.connymanero.weebly.com

Fighting for space - finches update

Those who have been following my blog for a while know that a couple of finches made a nest on my 11th-floor balcony. At the time I wrote that I wondered about the intelligence of birds since I have four cats.

A few days later I called those finches feathered engineers because the way they constructed the nest was nothing short of amazing. Every day they flew to and from with building materials and using just their beak they build a pine cone shaped nest.

Today I feel slightly different about them. Yes, the nest the finches built is remarkable, but if you ask me, those birds should have taken proper measurements.

As long as it was just eggs, the nest seemed big enough, but now that the birds have hatched it seems a little crowded. See for yourself …

Did you see the little guy on top? He’s about to fall out. That’s why I said that the finches should have taken proper measurements. Surely Mrs. Bird must have known that this nest would be too small for six little birds.

Another thing I wonder about is how these little birds can breathe. It’s all good and well for those on top, but the nest is cone shaped, which means that one of those birds is in the tip of the nest. How does he breathe with five of his siblings piled on top of him?

On the other hand, the one on the bottom is probably nice and warm, while those on top must be shivering. As you could see, the little birds have hardly any feathers, so they must be cold.

I wonder how this is all going to end. I hope none of them fall out because I would hate to see that.

www.connymanero.weebly.com

They've hatched - finches update

On April 4^th I reported that a couple of finches had chosen my 11th-floor balcony to build a nest. Since then I have posted regular updates on the building of the nest and the number of eggs. First, there was one, then two, and eventually six.

Yesterday we heard a distinct squeaking. It wasn’t the familiar twittering of Mr. or Mrs. Bird, it was none melodic and much softer.

We suspected that the young ones had hatched, but going out on the balcony to take a look was out of the question. Mama was sitting on her nest and we didn’t want to frighten her.

This morning though mama took a break, or went in search for food, as she left the nest and took off. We took the opportunity to snap a picture. Aren’t they cute? Six little fuzzballs. 

www.connymanero.weebly.com

Do birds get bored - finches update

When someone exhibits great patience it’s often said that he has the patience of Job. You know who else has great patience? Birds.

Faithfull readers have undoubtedly been following my experience with a couple of finches who made their nest on my 11th-floor balcony. We’ve affectionally named them Mr. and Mrs. Bird.

After checking the place out for a couple of days, Mr. and Mrs. Bird got busy flying to and from with building materials and we’ve been taking pictures while the couple is away.

At first, we merely admired the nest, but one day we noticed an egg. A few days later there was a second egg, then a third and as of today there are six eggs.

                  

Mrs. Bird sits on those eggs from early in the morning ‘till sundown. Just sitting there. I admire her patience. How does she do it? Doesn’t she get bored? There’s no TV to watch, no music to listen to, no computer the entertain her, she doesn’t even have a book to read. She just sits there. The only distraction she has is when Mr. Bird comes to visit two or three times a day to check on her.

Admittedly, from the 11^th floor she has a nice view of the Toronto skyline, but how long can one look at a distant city without tiring of it? She also keeps an eye on our cats.

Mickey, Charlotte, Gabriel and Holly regularly go outside. They make no attempts to catch the birdie, but they do like looking at it and talking to it. A cat talking to a bird … that’s right, Mickey makes a variety of noises that sound like twittering.

We’ve often joked that Mick doesn’t stand a chance catching a bird. Not only do they see him coming a mile away, he can’t keep his mouth shut. Or is he perhaps speaking the language of birds and is he trying to confuse out feathered friends? Who knows. Either way, the cats look at the bird and the bird looks at them. 

www.connymanero.weebly.com

Happy Easter + finches update

Happy Easter to all my faithful readers across the world.

Did the Easter bunny surprise you with any chocolate eggs? I certainly hope so.

A short while ago I saw a post on Facebook where a woman stated that she had received healthy snacks from the Easter bunny. Unless you’re a diabetic, which she is not, healthy snacks have no place at Easter. Not for adults and not for kids. Have you ever heard something so ridiculous? Healthy snacks for Easter … whatever next?

These health nuts are really pushing it too far. You can’t have this, you can’t have that, this is bad for you and that is bad for you and blah blah blah. Yet look at them … they are allergic to this and that, the wind blows and they get a cold and in general, their immune system is so weak that they get affected by all kinds of ailments.

Older generations in comparison are strong healthy individuals. They eat, drink and smoke and waltz through life without a care in the world. Just this morning I read that the oldest woman alive, born and raised in Italy, died at the age of 117. Do you think she ate healthy snacks? My guess is she never even heard of such a thing. And if she did, dismissed it with ‘queste sciocchezze’.

I remember back in my day, my brother and I used to stand in front of the window on Easter morning, peering into the garden to spot any eggs. Armed with a plastic pot we would venture out and look under shrubs and behind trees to collect the eggs. There usually was quite a selection of white, brown and black ones for us kids, and a big, beautiful cellophane wrapped one for mom.

This morning I found an egg myself. Not a chocolate egg but an egg laid by Mrs. Finch. Regular readers might remember that a couple of finches built a nest on my balcony. I promised that I would follow up on the story so here it is … so far one egg in the nest.

Feathered engineers

A few days ago I reported that two finches had chosen a wrath on my balcony to make their nest. In the meantime, considerable progress has been made.

The work usually starts around 8:00 a.m. at which time the birds start flying to and from to get materials for their nest. At first, it was twigs and grasses, but now that the nest is built, Mrs. Finch is lining it with feathers.

I wonder where she gets those feathers. Does she use her own? Does the steal a few off Mr. Finch, or does she pluck them her unsuspecting feathered friends? Either way, the nest is looking good. See for yourself …

Considering Mrs. Finch only used her beak, this is just a magnificent piece of engineering.

How are the cats doing, you might wonder?

The poor things are tired. They are just pooped. While they were able to get some solid sleep during the day, now they get woken up every so often by the twittering of Mr. and Mrs. Finch. Whenever they hear the birds they wake up and go to the balcony to have a look.

But actually, I should put that in the past tense. While they’ve been active bird watchers all week, today their attention started to dwindle. They seem to realize that they can’t catch those birds, so why bother? At best, their ears prick up whenever the twittering starts, or they lazily open one eye.

Why would they want to catch such a small bird anyway? Take away the feathers and the bones and how much meat is on such a little finch, hardly any. It’s more of an appetizer than a meal, or worse, an amuse-bouche.

Either way, I think the cats will be glad when the building of the nest is finished. Then again, once completed Mrs. Finch will lay her eggs and sit on them practically 24/7, while Mr. Finch brings her food. And later still, once the little ones have hatched, they will start to twitter to be fed and generally to get mom’s attention.

Oh these poor cats. Maybe I should get them some earplugs.

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Meanwhile, don't forget to donate to the Toronto Cat Rescue. Shelter cats need your help. Any amount is appreciated but donations of $20 or more receive a tax receipt.

Donations can be made to my PayPal address at:
conny.manero@gmail.com
or at
https://www.canadahelps.org/en/charities/toronto-cat-rescue/bowlathon/team/thebirds/mem