Tabatha Deans

Bringing Integrity to the Written Word

The Pigeons are back…

With the weather cooling and no need for the air conditioner, I, and apparently my neighbors, have taken a chance and once again opened our windows. I am lucky enough to have screens for mine, which were a hand-made gift from the Good Doctor, in an effort to protect me from a violent pigeon attack as I sleep. My neighbor, the Dominatrix, however, is not so lucky.
She knocked on my door last night, and I opened it to find the poor girl in tears, with a look of sheer panic on her face. I assumed something horrible had happened, and tried not to panic as she tried to overcome her sobs and tell me what was wrong. She finally communicated that a pigeon had come in through her window and trapped in the bathroom, perched on her shower rod, threatening her with his menacing stare.
Her panic and tears immediately triggered my “mommy” instinct, and I grabbed a bath towel and headed next door, assuring her it was no big deal for me to catch an evil pigeon lurking in her bathroom. My plan was to simply throw the big towel over it, scoop it up and throw it out the window, much like catching a lady bug and setting it free.
I realized the flaw in my plan when I peeked inside the bathroom. The offending creature was much, much bigger than a lady bug, and he was definitely threatening me with his beady little eyes. Plus, his beak looked razor sharp, and suddenly I had visions of him pecking my eyes out. One tap from that evil beak, and my eyes would be oozing all over the Dominatrix’s bathroom floor. He cocked his head and flinched his wings as if to fly at me, and I slammed the door and re-thought my attack plan.
Maximum coverage of my body parts was definitely the best plan, so I returned to my apartment, where I donned my jacket, winter gloves, pulled my hood up, and put on my big sunglasses. I looked like the una-bomber, and really couldn’t see through the dark glasses, but it was a small bathroom so I was confident I could get the job done. I returned with renewed confidence, and realized I had the once in a lifetime opportunity to use one of my favorite movie lines from Young Frankenstein.
“No matter what I say, no matter what you hear, no matter how much I scream, do not open this door,” I told the Dom, expecting a laugh. Instead I got a blank stare. She’s obviously younger than I thought.
I entered the bathroom slowly, but the bird had moved out of my line of sight. I slowly pulled the shower curtain back, and came face to face with the evil avian intruder. He stared directly at me, daring me, and I took a deep breath and went for it.
What happened next I don’t exactly recall, it went pretty quickly and I remember it entailed feathers flying, hopping, cursing (mostly me), toiletries being knocked over and the eventual capturing of his tail feathers. He continued to fly as I held his tail, like a miniature kite in flight in the bathroom. I finally muscled him into the sink, where I grabbed him with my gloved hand and held him against my body. I could feel his heart racing and realized he was more scared than I was, so I took a moment to sooth him before giving him a stern lecture about violating the space of others.
I emerged from the bathroom feeling we had a mutual respect for each other, and instructed the Dom to open the window in the hallway all the way. I bid my advesary farewell and threw him out the window, hoping I hadn’t injured him and he wouldn’t plummet to his death. He was fine and flew over the top of the Avenue Grille next door, circling under the street light so we could see his path of flight.
Then the evil thing flew right back towards us, and landed on the edge of the building, a mere 20 feet across from the open window. It was dark, but I could feel his beady black eyes trained on me, and I could feel his thoughts, saying, “Sleep with your windows closed and one eye open lady…”

September 30, 2012 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , , | Leave a comment



            The birds began building the nest several months ago, having chosen a spot just above the door to the Good Doctor’s apartment. The complex is rather large, so the fact that they chose to build a nest right there definitely seemed like a good sign from the universe. With each visit the nest grew a little more, until one day it was complete, with the lady bird sitting in the new home, while the male bird kept careful watch from his perch on the railing to the stairs.

            The day finally came when soft chirping could be heard from inside the nest, obviously the two lovebirds had succeeded in hatching their eggs safely. We listened to the soft peeping, and waited patiently for the young birds to grow big enough we could see them. It seemed like only a matter of days before we saw four tiny beaks poking over the edge of the nest, begging for food and watching for their mother with tiny, shiny, black eyes. They were adorable, and so tiny, I hoped none of them would fall out of the nest and plunge to their death.

            The parent birds took good care of them, and with each visit, as the little birds grew, more of their bodies were visible over the top of the nest, and their cries for food became louder and more demanding. The parent birds flew in and out of the stairwell/hallway often, scurrying to feed the screaming little baby birds. One day it was time for the little ones to learn to fly, and the hallway became a flurry of activity as the young ones left the nest and tested their wings. There was a brief moment of concern when one of the young birds had traveled too far, and sat perched on the stair railing, holding on for dear life, too tired to complete the journey up to the nest. He recovered, because on my next visit all four baby birds were present.

            But now, instead of the tiny birds in the modest nest, the birds have reached almost the size of their parents. Now the nest was completely full of baby birds, overflowing in fact, with one perched on top of the others, balancing and trying not to fall out of the too-full nest. I imagine it would look about like strapping a 14-year-old into a car seat in the back of the car. He looked angry and uncomfortable as he stared down at me with his now full-sized beak and piercing black eyes. And his mental message was clear—I can’t wait to fly this coop for good!

August 31, 2012 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , | Leave a comment