Taking after my mother, I am not an animal person. I don’t believe in the bizarre practice of offering them the equal love and affection I shower on humans. In fact, I pretty much only like animals when they do the odd wacky trick or taste good. So when a stupid bird found itself trapped in the dining room last night, the only reason I attempted to save it was because I was afraid it would poo somewhere.
My folks are sitting on some cruise ship right now, and I took the opportunity to go scavenge in their house and tan on their deck. Kelsey joined me for dinner and we spent yesterday evening sitting in the kitchen, sipping wine. I’d left the back door open, as we’d fired up the grill and waited for Alex to arrive home and cook for us. All of a sudden, Kelsey gasped.
“Beth! There’s a hummingbird in the dining room!”
“Oh my god, where?”
Lo and behold, a frantic wild animal was ramming itself against the windows, completely freaking out and attempting to push its way past glass with its incredibly sharp and pointy beak.
“Okay, okay. We can handle this. What should we do?”
Quick thinking Kelsey racked her brain. “We need a big bowl and a magazine, and then we can cover it with the bowl, slide the magazine on top of it and let it free outside.”
“Genius!” I exclaimed, grabbing a huge, metal mixing bowl and the latest issue of Saveur. Gingerly, I tiptoed towards the panicked creature, attempting to get close enough to cover it with the bowl. Kelsey hovered behind me, leaning over my shoulder and expressing concern that I not break its wings or hurt its feelings or something.
All of a sudden, before the bowl could close on top of it, that stupid hummingbird make a 180 and came straight towards me, it’s wings sounding like a chainsaw and it’s beak poised for my eye socket.
I’m amazed no one called the cops, but apparently, my parent’s heartless neighbors have no problem ignoring blood-curdling screams coming from the house. Kelsey and I lost it, running through the dining room, through the kitchen and into the downstairs bathroom, hollering the whole way there. Gasping, we huddled together and tried to figure out what to do, the sound of the bird throwing itself against the window still audible from three rooms away.
“Oh my god, it tried to kill us.”
“What do we do?”
“I don’t know. Pray for it to die?”
With that, the front door swung open. “Hey ladies,” My brother smiled. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh nothing. There’s just a wild animal trapped in the house that tried to kill us.” I answered, pouring Kelsey more wine and rolling my eyes.
“There!” Kelsey screamed, pointing to the blurry, loud bird flipping out in the dining room.
We filled Alex in on our plan, who promptly grabbed the bowl and magazine, approached the bird, gently covered it, slid the magazine over the top and calmly walked out on the deck. In a split second, he cracked open the lid of the bowl and the hummingbird shot out over the valley like a bullet.
Alex looked back at us, holding our wine glasses in the dining room and exhaling in relief. “Ladies, ladies. Relax. Problem solved. What’s for dinner?”
Oh, I don't know. How about nothing with wings…