A Story That Contains Some True Statements, and the Statements Therein.
A Black-headed Gull in St James's Park, London...

Image via Wikipedia

Coming home from work this morning was very strange. As I neared my house, a seagull started squawking at me. Really loud, like a siren.

The day before, there were two such seagulls, so it sounded like a car alarm. One would do the long, loud squaaaaaaakks, and the other would do the clipped series of bursts.

“WAK WAK WAK WAK WAK WEEEEAAAAAAAAAHK!!! WEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHKK!!! WAK WAK WAK WAK WAK WEEEEEEAAAAAAHK!!!”

It was actually sort of amusing, and they impressed me with their ability to stay in sync. I admit, I wondered if it was a learned behavior from Genuine Car Alarms, by which I mean those not involving seagulls, or if perhaps the Car Alarm makers were inspired by marauding pairs of seagulls, or maybe the two noises were individually stumbled upon and then jointly-admired by both the seagulls and the alarm designers.

I figured today’s squawking was related to the yesterday alarm-honking experience, which seemed to fade away as I unlocked my door and went inside. This time, however, the bird started diving at me. I covered my head and ran up to the stoop, but that didn’t stop it — actually, as I reached the doorstep, the attacks became more intense. (This might be due in part to how I had to open both the screen door and the locked front door; this is typically somewhat time consuming even when one is not attacked by waterfowl, which just complicates matters.)

The bird was attempting to peck at my face, and I found myself thankful that the idea of LASIK surgery is vaguely frightening to me and as such I never had the procedure done. I readily admit that having your glasses pecked at tends to reinforce this fear making it less vague and more concrete and justified. I was trying to cover my face and find my keys but it wasn’t going so well, so I tried actually batting the seagull away.

This did not work well, although I did have a bit of luck — in one of my flailing blows, I was able to actually grab the seagull. This was unexpected, especially since it was thrashing around still trying to peck my now-unprotected face. I dropped my bag and used my now-free hand to grab and wring the attacking seagull’s neck.

I stood there a few seconds with the seagull in my hands, and I felt really rather sad about killing it, even though it had been trying to peck my eyes out. It’d probably been just trying to protect its nest (which I, of course, didn’t want anything to do with, not even knowing where it was) or something equally noble. Or, I suppose, it could have just been mad. (Can seagulls go mad? I know parrots can, but they’re much smarter. Can crows go mad? I’d wager a crow’s intelligence is maybe a little higher than a seagull, but probably in the same area).

I walked down and got my father’s shovel from the shed, and buried the seagull in the dirt-bed under our living room window. I also told myself that it was the daddy seagull, and the mommy seagull is still alive to take care of the eggs/chicks. I do not know however if this is true, or even how to tell the difference. I know with parakeets, you can tell by their nose above the beak, if it’s blue, it’s a boy, and if it’s pink it’s a girl. A girl whose family bred parakeets told that to me, and I don’t think she was lying, because she didn’t really seem the sort to get off on telling stupid lies, y’know?

At any rate, even though I didn’t necessarily want to, I killed a seagull for attacking me. Sorry, Mr. Daddy Seagull. At least it was quick and hopefully painless.

The True Statements Contained In This Story:

  • The day before, there were two such seagulls, so it sounded like a car alarm. One would do the long, loud squaaaaaaakks, and the other would do the clipped series of bursts.
  • It was actually sort of amusing, and they impressed me with their ability to stay in sync.
  • I wondered if it was a learned behavior from Genuine Car Alarms.
  • I had to open both the screen door and the locked front door[.]
  • [T]he idea of LASIK surgery is vaguely frightening to me and as such I never had the procedure done.
  • I know parrots can [go mad], but they’re much smarter.
  • I’d wager a crow’s intelligence is maybe a little higher than a seagull, but probably in the same area[.]
  • [W]ith parakeets, you can tell by their nose above the beak, if it’s blue, it’s a boy, and if it’s pink it’s a girl.
  • A girl whose family bred parakeets told that to me[.]
  • [S]he didn’t really seem the sort to get off on telling stupid lies, y’know?

 

Enhanced by Zemanta