Dad and the Battle of the Birds

I talked to Dad yesterday, and it seems he's doing battle with a bunch of birds. The prime real estate at the center of this heated turf war is his cherry tree. Says he, "In all the years I've had that cherry tree, I've never tasted even one ripe cherry. I manage to eat a few when they're starting to get ripe, but those blasted birds eat 'em ALL before they ever get really ripe!" He's been wracking his brain (his own words) trying to figure out some way to keep the birds off the tree. Rest assured he already tried the old fake owl in the tree trick, and the shiny aluminum pans years ago. Child's play. So he recounted to me the war that he's been waging for the last several days.

The first day, he found an old battery operated radio, tuned it to a rock station, turned it up loud and climbed up into the tree where he hung it on a branch. (Did I mention that my father is 87? Yup.) Dad said, "I figured if that rock music wouldn't keep em away, nothing would." By now you're correctly guessing that Dad hates rock music and assumes any of God's creature would certainly find it equally detestable. So anyway, then he went inside and watched from the kitchen window to see what would happen. And there they were, about four robins, way down the other end of the yard. This is how he tells it: "Well, they started out just walking around over there, kinda hands-in-their-pockets like, and pretty soon they start walking a little closer to the tree. So they walk around awhile longer, then sure enough, they start getting a little closer. Next thing you know, they're up in that tree! That rock music didn't bother them a bit." Of course I pointed out to him that it might have worked if they had been any kind of bird other than robins. I said, "Haven't you ever heard the song Rockin' Robin? Robins like rock music." Well he hadn't ever heard of the song Rockin Robin. (Did I mention he's 87?) So my joke was lost on him.

So the next day Dad had another idea. He took his old box window fan, (the really old kind that weighs about 20 pounds), plugged it into a good long extension cord, tied something to it so it made a lot of noise when the blades turned, and again, climbed up into the tree and stuck it in the branches. (I did mention that my father is 87.) Once again, he went back inside and watched from the window. Same story. Same four robins, just like before, walking around the far end of the yard, then a little closer, then a little closer, and next thing you know. In the tree again. Damn.

Well then yesterday, he figured he'd take a different tack. He decided to climb up into the tree and wrap some netting around three good branches, and let the birds have the rest of the tree. He figures maybe they'll have enough to eat, and they won't try and get into those three branches he saved for himself, and he thinks that ought to give him plenty of cherries. He says, "I sure would like to eat some ripe cherries from that tree sometime before I kick off."

I can't wait to find out how that works out for him. I just wish he'd stop climbing up into that tree.