If movies have taught me anything, it's that feeding the birds is a pretty great gig. Songs get written about you, and you become a hero to little boys lost in New York City. Plus, you basically get an entire pokemon army of pidgeys and pigeottos - who, despite their plain looks, have a deadly Quick Attack and a wicked Gust.
Seems simple enough to get started. Mom got a birdfeeder way back at Christmas, and I resolved to put it outside.
Laughably easy! Haha!
BUT NO.
There is no safe place for bird feeders in
this town anymore. Stupid fat squirrelses. No matter where we put it - on the deck railing, under a tree, hanging from the old decrepit basketball net - those acrobatic little bastards found it, and spilled all the seeds on the ground. So few birds ever got a chance to get some free noshings.
This also led to another problem, to be addressed in next post. Cliffhanger, what?!
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