I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges. Run, Lady Human! Run! They’re coming! All the birds in the world are coming!
Me: Naw. Not all. Just twenty-five or so.
Stella: What do they want?
Me: The berries left on that bush there.
Stella: Tell them to take the berries and go away!
Me: I like watching them. See how they don’t all land at once. Some swoop in while others wait in the trees. They take turns at the bush.
Stella: How come they came now? The sun is setting.
Me: There’s a cold front coming in. Colder air will be here by morning. The old people used to say, “When birds flock together, there’s a change in the weather.”
Stella: Let’s go in. I don’t like it when there are so many at one time. And don’t let them in the house.
Me: They don’t want to come in the house. They want to fly free…Oooop! Well, that was on target. Nice shootin’, birdie.
Stella: One of them pooped on your hand! Yuck! Why aren’t you offended?
Me: I’ve been bird bombed before. Once in San Antonio by the river…
Stella: Blah, blah, blah! I told you to go inside! Now you have bird poop on your hand! Well, not me! You can keep your bad bathroom habits to yourselves, birds! Here they come again! Run, Lady Human! Run! But don’t touch me until you’ve washed your hand.
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