This Place is Going to the Birds. Literally.

14 05 2012

If you know me, you know I have an ugly history with birds.

I’ve never liked them. When I was on vacation in Italy as a teenager, my dislike turned to loathing. I had two birds poop in my hair in the same week. Try enjoying the Tuscan countryside when the soft breeze ruffles your hair and you reach back to tuck those wayward strands away and glob your hand through hot, gritty bird poo.

It was then that I declared we were at war with each other, and they’ve been targeting me ever since that fateful day. 

I could recount a number of grizzly tales of birds dive-bombing me and targeting my car, books, and person for a long time. Once, I sat under a tree in Forest Park for two full hours, reading a book, and paused to stretch my arms above my head. Instantly, I felt something hot dripping down my armpit. I heard the leaves above me stir, and a bird darted away, cackling with glee. Mission accomplished.

Plotting and planning…always plotting and planning.

Just when I thought I was safe in the bowels of the metal building I work in, it seems that my feathery friends found a way to invade my office. Below is the email I sent to my dear coworkers (including some who now work elsewhere) to inform them of our avian attack, and I think you’ll see another side of our seemingly quiet church office.

From: Cassie Moore

Subject: The Animal Adventures Live On…But WE May Not.

Hey everyone!

Just had to tell you a funny story about the Animal House (er, Hangar). As you know, we still have a mouse problem (mostly because we all secretly want our work space to smell like a hamster cage)….and there was that cat in the storage room a few years ago…not to mention the dogs we rescued this fall, when they ran away from home…but here’s another animal infestation to add to the list.

Today, as (name protected for his own safety from those wily birds) and I sat working, we kept hearing obnoxious squeaks coming from the room. I had assumed that they were sound clips, and didn’t realize that the sounds weren’t coming from a computer. Eventually, it got so loud that we both stopped and listened carefully.

Suddenly, we realized that it was birds–baby birds, to be precise–and that it sounded like they were in the room with us.

That’s a terrifying thought when you’ve seen the movie The Birds, incidentally.

We crept outside like the stealthy ninjas we are, and stole around the corner. It was there that we saw it: a bird’s nest the size of a small car, lodged underneath the corner of the Hangar roof and protruding into the building through a metal duct.

Actually, it may have been bigger than a car. At least, bigger than my car. Which is a glorified clown car, if we’re being honest.

Ok, I’m slightly exaggerating–but it’s a sizeable bird nest, tucked neatly under the building. We can hear every chirp and rustle like they’re sitting in the room with us. They even managed to tear off some of the black plastic material that’s our roof in here, so they must’ve been working on it for a while.

Funny, we’ve had cameras in this building for the purpose of watching people with sticky fingers. We never thought that the animals of the Oakville community would turn on us.

What did we do to offend the animal population in suburban St. Louis? Was it our mission to “reach and equip people to think and act like Jesus”? Oh, goodness–we singled out “people” and not “animals”. They must be upset about that.

Perhaps they found out about that time that one of our pastors wouldn’t allow a dog to walk down the aisle with his best friend at a wedding. I heard that poor pup is still whining about that.

Oh, no–what if they found out about that time that one of us (name protected for fear of PETA backlash) stomped on a little mouse with his heavy boot, squishing it to death in a gruesome manner, while the rest of the Hangar staff looked on like spectators at the Colosseum?

Uh oh, I bet they found out that we now offer gluten-free communion wafers, but not beef or chicken-flavored wafers for our furry friends.

Well, apparently the animals of Oakville have a right to hate us. And now they’ve started a full-out war against us. Great.

It’s a good thing you all got out of dodge while you did. This might be the last email you ever receive from m e eljhgl ligha  doas dfkg    jhg  g eanj   n lk………..

From: Anonymous Coworker #1

Subject: Are You Still Alive…? I’m Guessing Not. This Email May Go to Spam….

Cassie, I felt like I was right back there in the Hangar with you.  I still would like to see a photo of this nest and the birds though!

Do you remember when there was a nest right outside the door into the Hangar?  I had tweeted a photo of that one!  Yup, I had tweeted a photo of birds! – oh, the irony.

From: Anonymous Coworker #2

Subject: I Actually Have Better Things To Do Than Read These Sort of Emails…But The Draw of the Humor is Irresistable.

My favorite part by far is: 

We crept outside like the stealthy ninjas we are, and stole around the corner.

 Pure gold.

 It sure was nice knowing you guys before your untimely avian death!

From: Anonymous Coworker #3

Subject: I’m the Optimist of the Group, and You Know I Didn’t Stomp On That Mouse All Those Years Ago…

The animals should have been nicer to Cassie since she always did such an eloquent job of drawing attention to them.

Good times and happy memories!

Thanks for this. It makes me happy.

Oh, how I love my coworkers…they take a bit of the pain out of knowing that I’m now working with my back to some half-crazed, razor-beaked feathered hellions who have a bone to pick with me.

Or, rather, a seed to pick.

If I show up to church with bird poo in my hair, though, you’re all my witnesses as to exactly how it got there.




Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: