Wednesday, March 12, 2008

The return of the renegade robin

If you've followed my blog for a while, you will remember my evil nemesis: the wascally wobbin. ( and

Just a few weeks ago, my little bird-brained friend returned with a vengeance!

"Dearie, I think that stupid bird is back," Greg told me one frosty morning.

"No way! Don't robins go somewhere else during the winter months?" I asked, not believing his ridiculous report.

"Not this one, apparently. I could hardly read the paper with all the ruckus it was making . . . oh, and wait 'til you see the mess!"

Aargh! I'd battled that bird for months last spring. I taped up Sponge Bob napkins over the front porch windows so it wouldn't be able to see its reflection. By sundown, however, the looney bird had shredded the napkins in its ballistic attempts to peck out Sponge Bob's wee beady eyes!

Then I hung a life-sized owl figurine above the porch railing. You know, the kind gardeners put in their plots to scare raiding birds away. The robin took no notice of its mortal enemy, forcing me to drastic measures. When I was certain none of the neighbors were watching, I positioned a motion-sensitive, singing lobster in a strategic spot on the rail. Once the robin got over the shock of a red rubber crustacean crooning "Don't Rock the Boat Baby!", the bird used the lobster for a launch pad for its attacks.

I had to admit defeat. Thankfully, by the time summer rolled around, the bird disappeared. I figured it had either knocked its little brains completely loose or had found another family to torment. I was just happy for the war to be over--even though the massive clean-up effort took some time.

Yeah, so I wasn't too thrilled to hear the pesky pooper had returned.

But I'm delighted to report that I beat the bird this year! After a week of enduring its kamikaze attacks on our house, a strange and simple plan formed in my mind: I would cover our porch with bird netting!

I did it--and it worked! All four windows that look out onto our front porch are now shrouded with black bird netting. I tacked the netting above the windows and then draped it over stools, chairs and a porch swing so that the bird can't get anywhere close to its reflection. When Cock Robin swooped in for his afternoon assault, he quickly figured out that the war was over and left in sullen defeat.

Sheer brilliance, if you ask me.

You probably shouldn't ask our neighbors. I've seen the raised eyebrows. I've noticed how joggers cross the street. I've heard the hushed whispers of the walkers who pass by . . .

But I don't really give a hoot because I've said "bye bye birdie" to that rascally robin.

And that's one less stress in my life!