Feed The Birds (an appreciation)

Let me take a little time today to get away from all the craziness in the world and share my morning routine.

I just finished breakfast, and all the animals are well-fed and happy. At least it looks that way, and I like to think so.

Now, there are some things I need to explain. I live in the suburbs, and there is a nice little woods in the back of my house. Not a big estate by any means, but a big koi pond (I dug it myself), a little lotus pond and some bird houses.

So, I feed the birds. I have become a bird watcher since the economy tanked, and it’s a pleasant way to fill some time. There is a flock of sparrows, some blue jays and cardinals for color, and some mourning doves which are regulars. More about that later.

First the routine.

Now I know that dogs can’t tell time. Even with digital clocks. Still, almost every day, my two dogs - red standard poodles - get up when the clock reads 6:00 and get me out of bed.

They are never off by more than two minutes. The sunrise comes at a slightly different time every day, and the only variable is that the cats sometimes wake the dogs a bit early, when they decide to share the bed with the dogs, me and my wife.

Anyway, I get up at 6 AM, dress quickly, and I’m downstairs to let the dogs out. I take one pill (do not take with food, the instructions say) and open two cans of cat food while four cats watch. Then they follow me into the living room where they get fed.

Then the dogs come in, get their dry food for breakfast - any liquid from the cat food cans gets mixed in - and it’s time to go out and feed the birds and the fish in the koi pond. The frogs living in the lotus pond are on their own, but they seem to be doing well.

When I come in, two of my cats are sitting by the front door, waiting to be let out on the porch. It’s screened, so they don’t go out and roam the neighborhood, which will add years to their lives.

All of this takes a half hour or so. The TV is on so I listen to the news, and I get to make breakfast, take the rest of my pills and watch the birds.

There is a real pecking order to them. Some sparrows go to the feeders hanging on stands, others go to the deck. So do the bigger birds. And you can see the territorial markers. The big birds have an invisible “do not enter” circle around them, but when they get to the part of the deck where I scatter some seed, the circle gets smaller.

Sparrows come and nibble around the edges, making the invisible circle smaller. And the more sparrows there are, the smaller the circle gets. Some of those small birds seem to have little circles of their own, and other birds won’t come near them.

Sometimes a squirrel comes down from a tree and the birds all fly off, an impressive sight. Then a dog comes to the back door - I don’t know how they are watching, but they do - and the squirrel will run up to a rail on the deck near a tree. But he waits until I go to the door before running up, and when I do the dogs (who have no chance to catch the squirrel) run out, bark happily, and run through the woods, just in case there is another squirrel they can chase.

When they come in, the birds come back.

It happens every day. Nice, predicable, orderly. Enjoyable.

Now, I admit that I am lucky in a lot of ways. First, it doesn’t cost very much to feed the fish and the birds and the dogs and the cats. Maybe the equivalent of a couple of cups of coffee a day.

I do remember my first job, many years ago, when my dinner for a day or two was a can of soup heated with an emersion coil - I didn’t make very much, and it made no sense to me to get a hot plate, and a pot and to clean everything up when I was done. I was a bachelor, and living on my own. 

Teenagers and new twenty-somethings will understand that. After a year, my tastes changed, and I was making a little more. 

Now I live in the suburbs, am happily married, and can enjoy the wildlife. And the predictable life. My two dogs are laying at my feet as I write this, and soon one or both of them will decide to go back up and lay on my bed with my wife. The cats will come in from the porch, and may decide to go to my bedroom as well.

Then there will be some complicated negotiations over where on the bed each of the dogs and cats will lay down. All with as much space as possible from the others.

Just like the birds.

Then I will feed the fish and turtles in their tanks, go upstairs, get into bed, and doubtless mess everything up.

Life can be messy that way.