Death to the Crows

Would you agree that there is nothing more annoying in the world than being woken from a deep, blissful sleep at 4:30AM by crows? I once thought of myself as an animal lover, but apparently that warm fuzzy circle of love doesn't include crows. I can't stand them. I used to keep a bucket of rocks on my deck and then leap from my covers to launch very unsuccessful assaults in the early morning hours. Rocks don't really aim true. I stepped things up a notch when my husband got me a pellet gun for Mother's Day. I couldn've be more excited. There was a sort of sadistic pleasure unleashed as I watch my victim expel a flurry of feathers and fly off, or even better, drop to the ground.

This year they seem more brazen. They are telling their friends. They are back to their old dirty tricks. I reached beneath the bed for my trusty weapon, to realize to my horror that it had been left at relatives house. I tried Reggie's airsoft gun, but that piddly piece of artillery seemed to make them enjoy the game of cat and mouse even more. I strolled through the yard plotting my next move. Then I spotted it----THE MOTHER NEST. Their secret hide out, which was not so secret any more. I found myself laughing an evil laugh. The problem was the nest was about 60 feet up a large pine tree bordering my property. There was only one solution. I had to climb.

I donned my work gloves and headed up. The children gathered around, promising to call an ambulance if things went badly. They began cheering and my confidence grew. Up, up, and up, I went until I was in arms reach. The army of crows circled over head cackling fiercely. Several swooped close, trying to deter me from my mission. The nest was probably about 3 feet in diameter. Bit, by bit, I yanked and pulled. A flood of twigs, clay, and everything else you could imagine descended upon me. I could taste the grit in my mouth. When the final clump was demolished I began my descent. Still their cries of displeasure echoed throughout the neighborhood. When I jumped to the ground with a thud, my kids patted me on the back with congratulations. I was sweaty. I was dirty. I was scratched. I was covered in head to toe with sap, but I had won the first battle of the summer. I'm sure they'll be back for round two.