One day last week as I was making my way down to the basement so I could bust out a few miles on the treadmill, I heard a weird scratching noise. Immediately I thought mouse, and while that wasn't a terribly delightful prospect, I felt mostly equipped to deal with whatever I found. As I got closer to the French doors at the bottom of the basement landing, I realized it was no mouse. Instead, I saw a beautiful cardinal banging its head over and over against the glass in an attempt to get in my house.
I watched him (it was a him - beautiful bright red) for a couple minutes till he flew away, then went on with my run and promptly forgot all about it.
Until later, when I was in my kitchen and I saw the bird again, this time attached to the screen of my kitchen window, scratching and pecking away. I shooed him off, and he flew away again. Then he came back. I shooed. He came back. Shoo. Return. Shoo. Return.
Having lived in exactly the same house for eight years and having never experienced a bird quite this determined to get in, I turned to my trusted friend Google to tell me what was going on. I typed in "cardinal trying to get into my house."
It's bad. Really, really bad.
I read and read and read and finally narrowed it down to the following scenarios:
1. He wants to get in to peck my eyeballs out and eat them. (This is the most likely to be true.)
2. He sees his reflection in the glass and is trying to fight it for territorial reasons. (This won't work for me. At. ALL. The only thing worse than getting my eyes pecked out is living in a house where I have to keep the shades pulled all the time. My own particular brand of crazy requires natural sunlight, and lots of it.)
3. He is an omen of terrible things to come. (If by terrible things to come we are talking about getting my eyes pecked out, then I'll buy this one.)
4. He is the spirit of a departed loved one who is trying to communicate with me. (Uh, Grandma, can't you just send a butterfly or something? This bird is seriously starting to freak me out.)
5. He wants to get in to peck my eyeballs out and eat them. (See number 1.)
I took a picture and texted it to RJ:
"This crazy-ass cardinal is trying to get into the house to peck my eyes out. If you come home tonight and I have no eyes, this is what the perp looks like."
Strangely, I got no sympathy there.
Anyway, I went on with my day, and when it got dark outside my new friend disappeared and I thought that was that.
Until the next day, when he came back. And brought a friend.
And so it went. Every day. And it's getting worse.
A week later, I see no less than a dozen or so of these cardinals at a time, at a variety of windows, pecking and scratching and dreaming about how juicy my eyeballs are going to be.
My sis B totally thought I was making this up and/or exaggerating until I started sending her video clips of them:
So while I will freely admit that I am prone to a bit of exaggeration from time to time, this shit is real, y'all. These things are trying to get me.
If you don't hear from me in the next few days, send help. Or cats. Or a seeing eye dog.
Because it's just a matter of time, I think.