My adventures with birds

Interesting times again in the Godzilla household. I arrived home last night to find Mrs Zilla in an agitated state. She informed that she thought she’d heard a bird chirping in the cellar. This struck me as a slim possibility, we occasionally find frogs lurking in the cellar (our neighbour has quite a sophisticated pond), but I couldn’t see how a bird would make it’s way into the cellar. The reason for Mrs Zilla’s concern stems from an early experience we had in this house. We have a “real” fireplace, one in which you can burn logs, as opposed to a fake fireplace. One day after coming home Godzooky 1 came running out of the living room declaring that a bird was in there. Dismissing his tale as nonsense I took his hand and led him back in to prove there was no such thing. However, he was right and I was wrong. Sitting on one of the windowsills was a young, dishevelled magpie.

Judging by it’s colour and the amount of soot in the room, it had fallen down the chimney. Then it had obviously got frightened and panicked, flapping all round the room, covering everything in soot. Unfortunately it wasn’t just soot that was covering everything: in it’s panicked state it had covered everything with bird crap too. My concern was how I was going to remove this bird from the house without a) harming the bird b) getting hurt myself and c) avoiding further damage to the house. I searched the house and formulated a possible plan. If I used a large cardboard box perhaps I could contain my avian adversary within it and then remove him from the house. I located an archive box with lid that I had, ahem, borrowed from work, for the house move. I had neglected to return it by this point, but it was ideal. Strong and with a lid to keep the bird contained. My one worry was about the handle gaps, I didn’t fancy a beak poking through and having a good go at me. When I returned to the living room I found the bird had flapped around some more, and his movements had caused passers by and neighbours to gather round our house. Great, just what I needed: an audience for my endeavours. The small crowd seemed to get excited when they saw me – perhaps realising that the performance was about to begin. I approached the bird gingerly, magpies don’t have the best of reputations for being friendly. It’s black eyes didn’t radiate warmth and friendliness, more fear and readiness to defend itself. Thankfully the crowd outside served a positive purpose and caught the bird’s attention. I decided to act before my resolve deserted me completely. I managed to tilt the box and trap the bird between it and the window. It was nestling inside and didn’t make too much fuss at this stage. I guess the fact that it couldn’t see me now reduced the perceived threat to it. The crowd seemed happy with this, I got a couple of thumbs up and general smiles. Then the realisation hit home – I’d left the box lid in the middle of the floor, out of reach. Shit. I didn’t fancy trying to repeat the manoeuvre I’d just done, so called to Mrs Zilla and Godzooky 1 to come and fetch me the lid. Mrs Zilla was having none of it, despite my protestations that the bird was incapable of harming her or anyone else. This fear rubbed off on Godzooky 1, because he started saying that if mummy wasn’t going to do it why should he? A frantic 30 seconds of haggling took place, the exact details of which elude me now. The upshot was that if Godzooky 1 brought me the lid he would get some food related treat coupled with some small gift. A bargain in anyone’s language! Once the lid was in my hand I managed to slide it down between the box and the window and then ensured it was covering the whole of the box. Mission accomplished – bird contained within the box. Some of the gathered spectators looked slightly disappointed with the ease I’d managed it with. As I carefully made my way to the door with the box, the bird sensed the movement and started to bang about a bit, but not as much as I feared it would. I set the box down carefully outside, facing away from the house (I’m daft, but not too daft!). The crowd sensed what was coming next and mysteriously vanished as quickly as it had formed! I flicked the lid down and retreated to a safe distance (I hoped). The bird seemed to take an eternity to come out of the box, probably only a matter of seconds in reality. It looked around as though it was in some new strange land, strutted around trying to look nonchalant I think, and then finally flew off. The memory of this came flooding back to me when Mrs Zilla mentioned the possibility of a bird in the cellar. Except this time it would be a lot harder to box the bird in. Great. I descended the steps to the cellar, and the archive box was handily placed at the bottom of the steps (yes, it should have been returned by now!) and I picked it up ready to do battle. I searched the cellar, but could find no trace of a bird. Life for once was dealing me a good hand. I contemplated pretending finding a bird, and winding up Mrs Zilla, thrashing around with the box. Then I thought how heavily pregnant she is, and decided better of it. I was ahead on the day, no point in pushing my luck further. Besides I might never get my willy warmed again….