We have a jillion birds that come to our feeder.
Downy woodpeckers (lots of those), cardinals, jays, chickadees, warblers, mourning doves, sparrows. A jillion. And Olive is damned and determined she should have one as a pet. And by pet, I mean snacktoy.
The problem is, there’s just so much… sleeping that needs to be done. And stretching, and even grooming now and then. I stood out there on the deck for about 10 minutes and she did everything — everything — except watch for birds. Sometimes she crouches out there and falls asleep with her nose touching the ground. Recently she dug a little hole by the birdfeeder pole, and she happily rolls and swats and tosses pine needles and bits of leaf litter up in the air once in a while.
I think this is also how men fish.
Frankly, it relaxes me to watch her, happily birdfishing in the sun. And the birds don’t mind, truly they don’t. They sometimes sneak in while she’s sleeping, but otherwise they wait for her to amble off, or they swoop up to the feeder on the deck.
It isn’t like Olive isn’t working to support herself, mind you. I’ve had two baby snakes delivered to the doorstep this week alone. Soon it will be lizards and frogs.
Just no birds.
Olive thinks she might bring in a bird. She hopes she will.
Like, if maybe one could hop down and oblige her by standing still long enough for her to wake up and pounce.