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A Bird In The...

I'm not posting this in my Tunnel blog since it's not strictly medical in nature, though the incident damned near gave me a heart attack.

Whenever I go down into the basement, I'm used to hearing something scrabbling along the walls.  The basement is pretty much open to the elements.  I've had frogs, squirrels, and snakes take up residence in my basement and, when it rains, the place becomes a lake.

So, I wasn't surprised to hear something running around behind the furnace.  I was surprised when the bird came out of the shadows and aimed itself like an arrow for my head.

It was a manly cry of battle I let out.  I will swear to that 'til my dying day.

I ducked and the bird swung around for another pass.  It was not a cowardly act of shielding my face, but a quickly thought out stroke of genius that caused me to raise the net laundry basket.  I will swear to that also.  The mad bird flew right into it and I quickly flipped it over on top of the washer.

I took a moment to consider my options and maybe to slow my heartbeat, then carefully folded the basket flat to trap Birdy McCrackhead therein.

I carefully walked him upstairs and out to the breezeway, avoiding Bogie and Dru, and opened the basket.  For a moment, Birdy McBeakface lay there unmoving and I was worried that I'd somehow killed him.  Has his little coked up heart given out?  "Bird!" I yelled.

Like magic, his wings flapped and he, once again, headed straight for my face.  I ducked and he damned near hit the celing of the breezeway.  He flew a couple circles as though he couldn't figure out which way was out, then finally swooped off intothe night, hopefully to live happily ever after.

Or the stupid fucker flew out into Eastchester and got hit by a semi.  

I like to think that he flew off to his nest and his now regaling his wife and kids with the terrible tale of how he got caught in a dungeon and a nice human freed him.  Maybe I'll find a few worms on my front step tomorrow morning as a thank you.

Hey, it's a nice thought.

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