There are two stories. One is about a dog named Lucy, the other is about a cat named Smokey. Lucy's story is hearsay to me, but I am an eyewitness to Smokey's story.
The first story appeared in a Yahoo user's group called Bergen County (NJ) Freecycle. Freecycle (as in “free recycling”) is an online place where anyone can offer up anything they own to anyone who may want it, for free. Also, anyone can request an item that they're looking for. It beats throwing away something that's perfectly good, doesn't it?
Freecycle is not a forum for storytelling, but I guess this person felt the storytelling urge and couldn't resist it. Bear in mind, the only reason the writer wrote any of this was to ask for some netting - that's it, just a little bit of netting. His story follows:
I have a fig tree that is protected by three big dogs that hate squirrels while two of them hate birds, and one of them has run across the yard at full speed following a bird. I watched and laughed and said, "Lucy, what are you doing? Everyone knows a dog can't catch a bird."
Her sister Brandy once spent forty-five minutes in a lake chasing ducks, refusing to believe that a swimming dog can't catch a swimming and flying duck (lol). Well, I watched Lucy, 75% yellow lab/25% chow and extremely energetic, chasing a bird. Lucy ran across the yard and up the steps I built adjacent to their giant dog house leading to a deck I built for the three of them to sit and guard the Ponderosa like lionesses guarding the pride.
Anyway, Lucy raced full speed under the flying escaping bird. Then, Lucy ran up the stairs without losing a step. Then wheeeeeeee into the air dove Lucy catching the bird in mid flight. I thought, "Wow, everyone knows a dog can't catch a flying bird when the bird has a head start."
Ah, but then we have the crows. The intelligent crows. They sit on the roof and wait. And Lucy sits like a lion ready to spring while looking, supposedly in the opposite direction. When Lucy goes in the house, or in the opposite direction, the crows swoop down and poke their beaks through the maroon tips of the purple figs that are one or two days short of tree-ripened. They are eating half the crop. I don't mind if they ate only 1/4 or a 1/3 the crop, I'm all for feeding the pollinating birds and bees, but now they are getting selfish.
I am now looking for a netting to go over the fig tree. Let's keep this on the down-low hush-hush. I don't want Goldie, Lucy and Brandy to think I don't trust their home security system (lol). Truly, I know it's a long-shot. Are there any fellow gardeners out there with extra netting? Thank You (signed).
Well, that's one story. I guess I simply enjoyed the writer's enthusiasm. You know, the only thing he had to write was the very last sentence, about the netting. But as my wife is fond of saying, “We are a story-telling species.”
I like to tell stories, too. Here's what I wrote to Lucy's owner:
I'm sorry I don't have any netting, but I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed your story about your dogs and the birds. I'll bet the birds are even more surprised than you are that your dogs can catch them; that's probably why they're not taking the proper precautions. But those crows are smart, aren't they? Too bad they don't have a sweet song.
I had a cat named Smokey that was pretty clever about birds, too, but he didn't chase them, he'd let the birds come to him. Smokey would sit very still in plain sight, about three feet above the ground in a planter that had no plants in it. His presence infuriated all the mockingbirds in the neighborhood. The funny thing is, Smokey posed no danger to the birds, so long as the birds stayed in the trees. Smokey would never climb a tree to chase a bird.
As Smokey sat all tucked-in in the planter, he would pretend to sleep while the birds scolded and scolded at him, dove at him, probably even pecked or clawed at him. He looked very serene, but all the while he would make this quiet little staccato sound. It's just like he was cursing at the birds, but only under his breath so they wouldn't know what was coming. As he let the birds scold him and swoop at him, finally one of the birds would become emboldened and stay right over Smokey just a moment too long, and then Wham! Bye, bye birdie.
This went on for a long time. The birds never learned. For Smokey, I wonder if he simply enjoyed napping in the planter, birds or no birds, or if he knew that he could keep using the birds this way for his sport, day after day?
Good luck with your fig tree (signed).
Do you have any animal stories that you'd like to share with me and my readers? Isn't it funny to think that our modern-day birds may be direct descendants of Tyrannosaurus Rex? Way back then, they could have taught our dogs and cats a thing or two. Please leave a comment; I'd love to hear from you.
