Bird Problems.

Recently my dad and brother found a new weekend pastime: shooting. I'm not entirely sure what could have brought this on, but if I were to guess, it would be an exercise in defending their constitutional right to wield firearms whenever and wherever they like. While my dad claims that it is for protection from home invaders (because those run rampant in their neighborhood), I tend to think it is less an act of familial preservation than it is a big F-you to gun control advocates trying to take away his right to shoot them if he was ever physically attacked by one. While I know that guns in-and-of themselves are harmless, I have a tendency to want to lock myself up in a thoroughly insulated titanium box for my own self-protection whenever I am around one (and rightfully so, considering that under my brother's instruction, my sister blasted a hole through her closet wall and into the next bedroom... at least the "bullet" was a "blank"... hahaha!).

Anyway, this blog isn't really about gun politics as much as it is what I think my dad and brother should do to put this new hobby to its most practical use. As long as they don't mind shooting in the dark, in the middle of the week, in some God-forsaken area near our apartment, at 11:00 at night, and either pissing off a lot of residents in the process or emerging as full-fledged heroes. Here's why:

Spring is in full force in Arizona, mixing cool nights with warm, sunny days. THOR likes to run around in the grass and stick his little nose out the window when we drive around. The orange trees and wild desert flora are blossoming and everything smells heavenly. Sounds like a fairy tale, right? There is a window of about three weeks, maybe a month that this lasts. In anticipation of the inevitable inferno that is the Arizona summer, Cody and I want to put off using the A/C as long as possible because APS IS THE DEVIL AND WILL ROT IN THE LAKE OF FLAMING SULFUR FOREVER (see the book of Revelation for proof), so we are leaving our windows open at night to let in the fresh air, and closing them during the day to hold it in.

Two nights ago, as I settled into bed with my husband, our dog, and my book, joyously reading and looking forward to a restful night, my peace was broken by a shrill, earsplitting, incessant, and ever-changing… bird call.

As is the case with most noises that keep me awake at night, be it a neighbor pounding his bass through the walls or one of those annoying car alarms where the horn honks erratically and stops IF AND ONLY IF its owner comes to shut it the &%#! up, my first instinct was to blow up the culprit with a bazooka. But since I didn’t have one of those handy at the time, all we could do was close the bedroom window- much to Cody’s chagrin, who describes sleeping between THOR and me akin to being trapped inside a car in the middle of the summer in Phoenix with no A/C and the windows rolled up. When that did absolutely nothing to muffle the annoying song of what I think is a mate-less, sex-deprived, attention-starved male Northern Mockingbird, I started to go crazy. I even tried earplugs to drown out this crap, but I could only get an earplug in my left ear, because apparently my ear hole in the other ear is too small to accommodate a foam earplug. Now there’s a problem I never thought I’d have.

On that note, I’m not sure which will be more annoying for my neighbors: the constant bird noise, or me taking up a shotgun at every tree within a half-mile radius in an irrational, ruthless, apocalyptic, sleep-deprived rage until the bird noise stops.