The hummingbirds, the cat-tastrophy and the crazy author with a bow


Somewhere in this world sits-hovers-flits a hummingbird that thinks my backyard is not the safest place in the world.

And the tiny feathered friend is correct. For a bird his size, investigating the orange, yellow, white and black feathers with bright yellow nocks that seems like a weird flower but they are not the best place to be.

Now before you get up in arms that I am shooting at a hummingbird. I am not, I love to watch them little buggers. BUT, I don’t want them to come in when I launch¬†an arrow at the worst possible time. Once I let go, I am not fast enough to chase it down and grab it out of the air. (Wish I was!)

I waited. The little thing came in while I was shooting, investigating the twenty odd arrows in the target, the bright yellow must look like the center of a flower, the feathers are petals. .

And I waited.

One at a time, it looked them over.

So I waited for it to get bored.

It’s 104 (40c), I have the door open so I can shoot. I’m stuck on a story, I have no cooler going, but I have 3 fans. (two are ceiling).

So, I am impatient.

It got to the far right of the target butt. But would not leave, acting as if one of the bright-colored feather and yellow-plastic was of particular interest.

I did not wait. I put an arrow away from all targets but still hitting the butt some four-feet from the tiny bird.

Exiting stage right at about the speed of sound, the little thing did not come back.

Pretty as flowers!  But them sticks are skeery and move fast.

I like hummingbirds, but not as targets.

Once it took off like someone shot it¬†from …well … a bow, I continued the rest of my set and recovered the arrows. I made a jar of clear¬†water and sugar, ¬†and according to a web-page recipe, using red food coloring is a bad idea. (Besides I don’t have any that I can find) ¬†And the yellow? Well, looks too much like urine. I won’t do that to the birds. So they get clear.

But one bit of dark humor, I hung the feeder via suction cup outside the big window of the formal dining room that we only use for Thanksgiving and is a place where the house cats hang out. (Inside.)  This became the Hummingbird Air Force refuling station right after that.

Now all three cats are congregated by the window, trying to chase the hummingbirds across the table that is against the window. After watching, I think the birds are wise to the fact the cats cannot get to them.

The cats? Not so smart. There has been at least one massive thud I heard and a scramble to get back up to the table by the time I walked back in.

But it has now been six hours since I filled the bird feeder the first time. It is now needs a refill for the second time for the day.  I am putting a half-liter of the sweetened water in it at a time, the birds have consumed one full and another half liter so far. They do have my number now it seems.  I just hope they stay in the front yard.

The cats? They are needing a trip to the therapist and some anti-stress pills ‘cuz them speedy, twitchy , feathery things are driving Skittles, Spike and Sweet Pea to drink.

No hummingbirds were harmed in the writing of this document.

Cats… Well the feline face-print in the glass might testify against me on that one. ¬†But otherwise, they are no longer eating plants, or clawing furniture. Their tails are doing a¬†choreography of movement of course.