It’s no secret that I hate birds (except Pete). If you didn’t know that, read this post.
Did you read it? I don’t wanna see any comments below about how birds are really very nice creatures, blah blah blah. Because if birds were really nice, they wouldn’t be terrorizing me.
Plus birds keep pooing on my blog buddy, Izzie. You can say, “But birds pooing on you is good luck!” Bah! That’s just a myth spread by those dirty little birdies.
Anyways, as you read in last year’s post, the current score is Thoughts 2, Birds 8. The flippin’ birds are winning. Jerks.
However, up until now, the birds have had an advantage: They outnumber me.
But not anymore! Now I have a sidekick. More than a sidekick. I have a secret weapon.
A secret weapon that…
- Jumps 5 feet into the air.
- Is faster than a speeding bullet.
- Has claws of steel.
- Has a bird-killing instinct (well, kinda).
- Has cat-like reflexes.
In the past month, two birds have manuevered their way into Blarney and I’s basement. And Esme has caught both of them!
Look out birds, we’re coming for you.
Thoughts and Esme, 4. Birds, 8.