To date, seagulls have pooped on me at Disney World (this is sort of a bring down when you're in third grade and just really want to ride the Haunted Mansion ride again but you can't because stupid birds pooped all over your head and your brand new Tigger t-shirt, so your Mom makes you leave to go shower and change), a giant peacock screaming with its tail in full regalia has chased me to my parent's car while at a family dinner at White Fence Farms (I still have nightmares about this), and aggressive pigeons took tortilla chips off my plate and then walked on my foot on the pier in Santa Monica. Birds are weird and invasive.
Clearly, I'm not the only one nervous around creatures of flight given that the cinematic gem Birdemic feeds on this fear.
 |
Birdemic: Shock and Terror (2010)
A platoon of eagles and vultures attacks the residents of a small town. Many people die. It's not known what caused the flying menace to attack. Two people manage to fight back, but will they survive Birdemic?
Director:James Nguyen |
|
Watch Trailer |
Thanks IMDB (please note that the people manage to fight back with wire coat hangers - again, I said this was a cinematic gem).
So last week I was uneasy and grossed out by the giant gray birds circling around my back yard - it felt like a Birdemic-type sequel. Suddenly I heard a loud BANG on my backdoor. A huge gray bird (ok, like a normal sized bird) had flown head first into the glass door. Clearly, these birds are both scary and dumb. Unfortunately for the bird and me, Boxer dog Sam was outside. The bird/window collision got Sam's attention and he raced over to make the bird his new chew toy. Despite what The Lion King has taught me about the circle of life, I'm really uncomfortable letting my sweet Boxer boy become a murderous hobgoblin. so I panicked and tried (to no avail) to distract Sam by calling him and gesturing awkwardly. In the split second that Sam looked away, the 99% dead bird that was still 1% alive and full of chutzpah made a run - no, limp for his life waddling behind the air conditioning unit and away from Sam's drooly clutches.
Dying bird? GIMME GIMME GIMME!!!!
Filled with internal conflict, I found myself rooting for the bird mostly so I wouldn't have to deal with his corpse. I gave him a few hours, thought positive thoughts, and hoped he'd waddle himself away from my yard to live a long and happy bird life somewhere else. Instead of the bird making an amazing recovery, when I checked on the situation I discovered that the bird had tipped over on his side and then died (I made this very scientific assessment by poking the bird gently with a broom).
 |
| Armed with a tennis racquet and broom, I feel ready to take on local wildlife...and maybe ninjas. |
Feeling like a Goodfella, I got a shovel and prepared to send the bird to sleep with the fishes (or really just put him in the trash). As I took the shovel to prod the body out from behind the air conditioner, two massive brown birds began cawing at me and dive bombing their fallen friend. As scenes from Birdemic flashed in my mind, one of the giant birds scooped up the dead bird and started to fly away; however, the bird's creepy reptilian talons couldn't hold onto the corpse bird and as I watched in horror it dropped the dead bird into my swimming pool.
The dead bird bobbed on the surface for a few seconds before the second giant mutant attack bird swooped down and grabbed it out of the pool. The three birds, rather, the two living birds and bird corpse, flew up and away from my yard. I'd like to think that the birds were saving the body to have a little bird memorial for the fallen comrade, but birds are super creepy, so they were probably going to eat him. Relieved knowing that I wasn't going to have to scoop a dead bird out of my pool, I put the shovel away and headed inside.
The birds, however, weren't finished and wanted to send me a message. When I let Sam outside again, he made a beeline for one of our little patch of lawn. The dead bird was BACK in our yard! Using quick, ninja-like moves I caught Sam and escorted him into the house. Grabbing the shovel for the second time that day, I headed to the lawn to get rid of the bird again. As I walked over to his sad rumpled body, I saw his beady red eye looking right at me. I don't know if I believe in ghosts, but I'm pretty sure the dead bird was vowing to haunt the crap out of me. Being far too squeamish to deal with this kind of death and destruction, I gave up, went inside and bravely waited for Shane to get home to deal with it.
I can happily report that our backyard has not seen any more carnage (bird or other), but this incident has done nothing to restore my goodwill towards our feathery friends. I assume that these winged creatures will have their retribution, and my car will never be safe from bird bombs.
