The Chickadee I Wish I Never Had

Just a day or two after we moved to this house, I was thrilled to find black-capped chickadees a plenty. They've staked out several of my trees as their own, given my husband a thorough bawling out for daring to come near them when mowing the lawn, and nicked countless seeds from my feeders. Today, however, I wished we'd never had a single one in the yard.

We also happen to have a Siamese cat that roams the neighborhood, based from our neighbors two doors down. The cat is well groomed and sweet-tempered, but I've been anxious about its presence outdoors without any collar or control. My suspicions began when I found a dead bird or two nearby, but no obvious markings that would denote them as cat prey. Today, however, I saw the cat lounging in my backyard, toying with one paw. There was no fluttering beneath that paw and no sign of feathers, so I went out to see what it might have - a mouse, perhaps, or nothing at all, given the predilection of some cats toward dramatic play.

It had a chickadee. My worst suspicions were confirmed; I chased the cat out of the yard with a none-too-gentle swat - to keep it frightened from returning, not to harm it - and gathered a bag and small hand rake to take care of the bird. When I returned, however, I was aghast to see it still breathing rapidly, trembling with fear and pain. I've never been so horrified and distraught in my life.

I feed the birds only the best seed, keep their feeders clean, disinfect their bird baths, and have a career where I teach others how to care for and appreciation our wild feathered friends. All of these things could be considered good, and in that, I'm the good guy. Today I had to be the bad guy when, with tears running down my cheeks and a sob in my throat, I had to get my husband's shovel to bludgeon the chickadee and end its suffering. I would have used the tip of the shovel's blade for a faster end, but the shovel is broken and I had to be more blunt to accomplish the task. As I raised the shovel above the bird to bring it down abruptly, the chickadee opened its eyes and looked into my tears. I can only hope it understood what it may have seen there - compassion, heartbreak, agony, and sorrow.

I plan to speak to the neighbors - their home is currently getting an addition, and it may be that the cat is only outdoors temporarily. Nevertheless, allowing a pet free roam is a violation of both our city's laws and the neighborhood homeowners' association. While there are things I can do to protect my birds from cats, it is this type of instance that makes me wish - for a moment - that I never had birds at all.

Here Kitty, Kitty

Just about one year ago, I added the gray catbird as a lifer and felt lucky to do so - I'd seen a bare glimpse of a trio of the birds foraging in Provo Canyon, and while the look was adequate for identification, it wasn't as memorable as I would have liked. Just a few weeks ago, then, we were walking again in the canyon, yet in a much more popular location, and I couldn't turn around without seeing the distinctive flash of gray with a black cap and rusty undertail coverts. Gray catbirds abound!

We never know what birds we will and won't see, and the birds that are scarce in one location may be abundant just a short distance away. What we can do, however, is try our best to create a bird-friendly landscape, to preserve birds in the wild, to practice an environmentally-friendly lifestyle, and to support wildlife organizations that also follow those goals. I do it to the best of my ability, and while the heat of the summer is slowing down the conversion of the new yard into a bird's paradise (I do have two bird baths and multiple feeders out, however), it is a process that will continue as long as birds are in the skies above my yard. Maybe one day I'll even attract a gray catbird - after all, they're only a few miles away.