And suddenly the idea of their departure doesn't seem so sad...

Saturday afternoon, after months of peaceful cohabitation, Lady bird turned very, very territorial. It was an attractive site, I'm sure - all the ducking and stifled screaming and running for cover as she repeatedly dive-bombed me (for no good reason, I might add) while I was attempting to weed the angel garden.

Not good. Not good at all (although possibly good dinner theatre for any nosy neighbours who happened to be peeking out through their windows around the dinner hour).

I guess it serves me right for putting the bird house so close to the garden. Lesson learned. In my defense though, I really didn't think any birds would take up residence in the box. I thought it was going to be a charming garden/lawn decoration. I never dreamed it would turn into Lady's tiny little house of horror.

Later that evening I forced My Beloved (who's a good head and a half taller than me) to stand in the middle of the yard to see what Lady would do.

Of course, she ignored him and happily went about her business of feeding the babies and removing sacks of...well, sacks of poo (blech - who knew they did that? I suppose it's the avian version of changing diapers).

So after rather reluctantly acting as my decoy, My Beloved determined it was either something I did, or some "vibe" I was giving off. (Because It couldn't possibly be the bird's fault. My bad vibes, that's what it was.)

We tested her mood yesterday by poking around the yard and garden after dinner and she was fine - no bombs, and so no ensuing screams or wild flailing and ducking. But tonight she nearly took My Beloved's head off (much to my secret delight, because this means his vibes must suck too) while he was kicking a soccer ball against the wall.

He was brave about it, but he put the ball away pretty fast.

I did some reading and it seems that the little ones will be flying the coop within the next week or so. According to the literature they likely won't return once they make their airborne debut and take to the skies above our neighbourhood. They'll join a larger flock and prepare for fall migration by hangin' with their homies and getting acclimatized to life outside the box.

Perhaps this was the gods way of making the separation a little easier for me. I was already starting to mourn their loss, knowing that they'd soon be leaving the yard after almost three months of sharing our little piece of the world. But Sunday that loss wasn't seeming like such a complete tragedy anymore.

I'll miss the little fellas when they're gone, I will. I've enjoyed watching them come and go and listening to their cheerful little warbles. But I won't miss this new, aggressive Lady who no longer regards me as a harmless garden fixture. I won't miss being afraid of going into my own backyard and looking like an idiot when I do.

The neighbours might miss the show, but there's a Blockbuster opening at the new plaza near our house soon. They can rent The Birds if they need to get their fill of screaming women running from crazed birds.

With any luck we've put on the very last show, Lady and I.