Prejudiced, Not I …Well Maybe

[Squirrels!] The Dickerson Pondit lives in a fairly rural setting - trees, lake, deer, coyotes, foxes, birds, snakes – you get the idea. I also live within forty miles of New York City whose gateway still rings out with these words,

Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me.

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!

I enjoy the olio of humanity of NYC. I am not always one hundred percent comfortable with everyone I meet, but The Bronx is surely more interesting than Greenwich, CT! So as I try to reaffirm my broad tolerance of all mankind, I have to admit that my holier than thou all inclusive attitude does not extend to all of God’s creatures. [Squirrels!]



I have a soft spot for birds. I am a three bird feeder guy with a spare feeder in place in case of any feeder malfunctions. I know you are thinking, what could go wrong. That is the exact attitude that CBS executives were having during the Super Bowl XXXVIII halftime show and look what happened then. I want no part in any malfunction feeding a red-breasted sapsucker. So I am prepared. I make sugar water for the hummingbirds, have thistle seeds for the finches and a fine seed mixture for the other local song birds. [Squirrels!]


I have my feeders hanging from linden trees near our patio. In the past I used twenty pound test fishing line and an ‘S’ hook to hang the bird feeders from the delicate linden boughs. Today I am using reinforced metal cables and carabiners. [Squirrels] To refill my feeders I do have to climb a stone wall. This is no so hard, it is only about three feet high from the patio side but does have about a twenty foot drop on the far side. I have been successful reminding myself that the evening after a couple of glasses of medicinal red wine is not the time to refill the feeders. I enjoy watching the birds feed, but do have my preferences. Male goldfinches to female goldfinches, hummingbirds that hover rather than perch to feed, chickadees to starlings, cardinals to blue jays – again males cardinals to females. I do not believe this male/female thing is prejudice, but no one is a good judge of their own prejudices.


I and most of my fellow humans judge ourselves at the top of the intelligence scale for all fauna. I must admit that these last several months have had me questioning this accepted premise. [Squirrels!] There are some animals that I am having trouble outwitting. Now I am a gentle person. I have made it through my entire life without once coveting, owning or firing a gun. I did have a bow when I was young, but did no more than target shoot. But recently I spent hours scouring toy stores looking for the highest power water gun available to an unlicensed owner. I ended up going to the mother store, Toys-R-Us, on Broadway in New York City to find the suitable weapon. This pump loaded pistol has a thirty-five foot range. Perfect for my patio and my favorite seat about fifteen feet from the primary bird feeder. I admit that I considered much more powerful weapons, including a sling shot I used for pests about twenty years ago. Fortunately, I reflected on the nature of the community where I am living and realized the image of me with a BB gun sitting on my patio eyes riveted on a hanging bird feeder would bring complaints to the condominium board. I believe me holding a Buck Rogers blue, lime green and orange squirt gun would never become a board meeting complaint.


So I now spend hours on the patio, gun at my side waiting for the kill. Male cardinals could be feasting on sunflower seeds, several male goldfinches could be jockeying for a spot on the thistle feeder and hummingbirds could be hovering over all four sugar water spouts on their feeder. Yet my eyes are focused not on these marvelous birds but at the linden tree about twenty feet from me and five feet from the bird feeder. I am waiting for the perpetrators. [Squirrels!] But they sit casing the crime scene a comfortable thirty-six feet away. They case and I stare. Stalemate!


Epilogue:


Today the heavens opened and we had a thirty minute downpour. We waited for the rain to stop to drive to the supermarket. As it let up and I got the car, we slowly drove away and I glanced over at the bird feeder. There he was, hanging upside down, soaking wet trying his hardest to get at the bird seed. He/she was soaking wet now but at other times spiteful enough to stay thirty-six feet away from me and my gun. Oh this is not prejudice, this is jaundiced bigotry. [Squirrels!]