Thursday, September 17, 2015

A bird in the house

A bird flew into our house today, straight in through the back door as if it was following Kincade who'd just come in from the back yard. Don't ask me what kind of bird it was, I'm no birder. It was small, not large and black like a crow, no red-breast like a robin, and wasn't a blue jay either. And it was too pretty to be a starling. I almost wondered if if was someone's pet that had gotten loose, with its pretty coloring. 
It flew through the kitchen around our dining table, into that window then made a loop into the living room where I was reading, right into our large picture window, which faces west. When it hit glass, it flew into the north picture window, then, then the north east picture window, then back. Around and around, until it finally landed between my houseplants and the window to the north.
This wasn't our first bird-in-the-house incident. 
For those of you who don't know, we once lived with these two large labs. Jackson's in back. He was the alpha male half-lab, half-white German Shepherd who graced us with his presence for about twelve years. Jemima's the pure-bred yellow lab sitting in front. She was my Beanie. Back in the days of these two 100lb labs, a bird had the misfortune of taking a left turn into our house. These two innocent-looking pups might have been napping a moment before, but they became pure bird-dog in half a flash. It was instant chaos. Barking, flapping, panic. And I flew myself, trying to shoo the bird out the sliding door before the dogs could catch it. In the days of these pooches, we saw many flights across our yard as they chased birds up trees, squirrels across fences. We were even brought an occasional 'treat' by them. They were so proud.

Today, however, was NOT that day.
And these are NOT those dogs (this picture was taken when Kincade was still a pup, which is why his head isn't dwarfing Maica's). Yes, the bird this time escaped unharmed, but it was NEVER in any danger from these dogs. When Maica, the Springer, noticed the bird, she instantly leapt into my lap and sat quivering, afraid for her life. She'd have climbed onto my head if she could have. Kincade, on the other hand, thought a new friend had come to play. He bounced up and began following the flight of the bird, his tail wagging. It was like watching him chase his tail (which he's also been known to do). He didn't make a single sound or act like he was interested in hunting the bird, he was simply curious. When the bird settled on the window sill, Kincade stuck his head between a couple of potted plants and stared. I'd called J to come help release the bird from captivity. When he walked into the room, he said, "Where's the bird?" 
"Look at Kincade," I told him. Our big galoot was completely still but for a wagging tail.
Come to think of it, he was working pretty hard being a good bird dog, doing his darnedest to keep an eye on it without letting it get away. 
Maica, on the other hand, complete fail being a hunting dog. She'd be terrified.

It's interesting to think of their nature, though. I always learn so much. The timid, the tender, the tough and the strong. Those are our dogs. 
But that's also what I learn about myself when I'm faced with unexpected experiences. How do I react? Do I become the alpha dog, creating panic in my wake, stirring up frenzy? Do I climb into a corner in fear? Or am I curious? Do I follow where the experience leads me? Am I open to what flies through my door? To what GOD brings into my life?
How do you react when new things come?

1 comment:

Pamela M. Steiner said...

Sometimes I am too slow on the uptick to realize something new has just flown into my realm. It takes me a while to recognize that this may be an "opportunity" "Open Window"...and I hesitate to respond sometimes until it would seem to be too late. I ask too many questions...doubt and fear jump in the way of my courageous leap to explore and take off with the new idea. I find as I am getting "older" I am much slower to respond than when I was younger. Maybe because I'm wiser. Or maybe because I'm gun-shy. I often wish I still had the exuberance of youth...but it's probably best that I don't. My body can't keep up with the ideas.
Anyway, thank you for making me think about this. That's a start in the right direction. I'm thinking.