The Saga of Nesting Birds Part II

When last I blogged, we still had two small birds in our dryer hose. Well, those birds weren’t aware of me and my husband’s elite small endothermic animal hunting skills. They were honed in the forests of Hyrule and the county fairs of our childhood.

After some trepidation, we quickly scooped one out of the pipe. I grabbed his tail end and wrapped him in a towel. Only his head was visible as I carried him through the house to the patio. He swung around wildly, and for a moment, I thought I saw fear register in his solid , ink-colored eyes.

I set him on the concrete outside. He hopped a few feet self-consciously. He paused for a few seconds to evaluate the opening in the fence and glided out into the alley. Our spirits high, we left the dryer in the hallway and retired to bed. Though we still heard the ominous sound of talons on metal, we decided that we had had enough of going after it. It would have to come to us.

This morning I awoke and got on my regular routine—it sleepily on the couch, look for gigs, read my RSS feed, check the news, and repeat—and decided to look into the closet. I moved the dryer and opened the door to find a frightened bird flying towards my face. Needless to say, I shut the door. My awesome bird-catching powers only work when my husband is near and vice versa. It’s a lot like the Wonder Twins.

So I went to the office and got the maintenance men again. They were a little surprised that the shop vac had left anything in the vent. He recounted to me that as soon as they turned on the vacuum yesterday, one of them shot out of the exhaust like a projectile.

One of them came in to retrieve my last guest. I left him to his work because he had a giant net. I assumed he had it covered, and I was behind on my procrastinating. I looked back from my laptop just in time to see the critter flying at my head. He swerved at the last minute, landed in my bowl of bananas, and dove behind the fridge. My apartment workman pulled out the appliance, but he had already crawled into the condenser.

It was noisy, but finally we pulled the exhausted bird out. Finally, it seemed we could once again use our dryer. OR COULD WE?


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