Column: Banter around the bird feeder

Elliot, a chickadee
Reginald, a cardinal
Gus, a grackle
Maude, a mourning dove
Rusty, a squirrel
Jim, a human

Elliot: There is much to like about humans and bird feeders, but with weekend people it can get pretty spotty. Jim is not nearly as regular a feeder as he was when they first bought the place. But credit is due for he has paid real money over the years for the seed. Ninety percent of Islanders never think about getting engaged in feeding.

Reginald: As everyone knows, I’m a big consumer of seed, but truth be told, I find it incredibly bland stuff. It’s like eating saltines all day. I’d much rather chomp on a wet, fat bug, but nailing bugs, that’s work. I’d rather fight for feeder perches with you guys, although I am struck by the laziness implied in that confession.

Elliot: Speaking of fighting for perches, Gus, may I inquire why you grackles insist on mob tactics at the feeder? Twelve, 15  at a time, maniacally attacking it, knocking seed all over the place. The rest of us have to wait until you finish your mob thing.

Gus: I can’t explain it, but I won’t apologize for it. It’s how we were taught. But I’m with Reggie, we don’t really like this stuff. It’s hard-wired behavior that’s not going to change. I admit we do shake out a lot of seed.

Maude: Everyone sprinkles a lot of seed, but obviously that works perfectly for me, being a ground-feeding bird. Why do you think I’m so fat? It’s like an all-you-can-eat buffet out there. If it weren’t for Rusty I would have serious weight problems.

Rusty: When Jim first installed the feeder, he stupidly used the simple hanger that came with it. Grandfather easily dislodged the feeder with a couple of dive bombs and the family gleefully rolled it around on the ground spilling out all the feed. As most humans will, Jim went to the hardware store and bought a length of chain and a clip and the feeder’s been on the tree ever since. I’ve dive bombed it a few times just to say I have in conversations with visiting squirrels. But, yeah, Maude and I pretty much vacuum up the stuff on the ground.

Elliot: Forget seed; what’s really tasty is suet. Jim put up a cage last winter and we cleaned that baby out in a few days. That stuff is like prime rib. For some reason he thinks it’s only a winter thing for us. Sometimes Jim is disappointing.

Gus: We’re out of here in the winter so I have never had the pleasure of suet.

Reginald: Tasty? Yes. Messy? Very. But I’m not going let that stop me, even though my wife says it gives me bad breath.

Maude: I’m strictly a seed person and, yes, I have noticed fowl-smelling suet breath. That’s a pun, guys. Fowl, foul, they’re homonyms. Get it?

Elliot: That pun works only if you write it, not when you say it. Since you can’t write, the pun doesn’t work. We hear “foul” even though you are saying “fowl.” There’s no way we could “get” that pun. Anyway, how many times do I have to tell you, we’re not fowl!
Maude: Elliot, you always overthink.

Elliot: The Audubon book calls chickadees intelligent so you may be right. It also calls us tame. One time I ate some seed out of Jim’s hand. It was sort of exciting and not the least bit scary. What is Jim going to do? Hurt me? He loves us. That’s why he hung up the feeder!

Reginald: That brings up an issue I have thought about a great deal. Yes, I appreciate the seed, tasteless as it is. But the whole notion of eating seed as a performance for human viewing is demeaning. It is a problem that cannot be resolved.

Gus: Talk about overthinking. That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. It’s food! It helps keep us alive! Performance, schaformance!

Reginald: I’m not surprised a rowdy glutton like you has no capacity for reflection.

Gus: You red birds are so egotistical. I grant you that humans love cardinals and hate grackles, but that does not make you intrinsically superior. We accept our status as unliked birds. Come to think of it, maybe that’s one of the reasons we travel in such large groups.

Elliot: I’m not sure I follow that logic. Unlikability and large groups? I don’t see the connection.

Gus: Sheez, Elliot, never mind. It was just a stray thought.

Maude: Hey, look who has shown up, good ol’ Jim, and if we’re lucky he’s out here to get the ladder and replenish the feeder. And … yes he’s heading to the shed for the ladder!

Elliot: Who cares? I’ve had my fill of this crummy dry seed today. What I’d give for a fresh slab of greasy suet.