Oct 13, 2014 3 min read

With the onset of fall comes nature’s attack. Critters of all shapes and sizes begin to descend on our house with intentions of moving inside for the winter. It is one of the reasons fall is my least favorite season. Flies, ladybugs, mice and birds have all been known to make a steady march toward my door in an attempt to secure lodging. I swear, sometimes they even knock on the door!

Recently, it has been the birds. Three times in the past week or so, a bird has flown down the chimney pipe and into our wood stove. Its discovery is made when its little bird talons scratch around inside the stove’s metal pipe, sounding much like nails on a chalkboard.

That disturbing noise is followed by the sound of all kinds of clatter as my cats attempt to get into, onto or at least as close as possible to the noise that they assume is their new plaything. Knickknacks and collectibles go flying as they leap around in unprecedented joy, striving to catch whatever it is that they hear in there.

The other day, I went out to the mudroom where the stove is located and saw all four of my cats sitting in a semi-circle around the stove door. They were staring expectantly at it, as if it would come alive and move so they could bat at it. The oldest cat, Simon, then stood up on his hind legs and put his front paws on the door, as if to say, “Please open this door! If only I had opposable thumbs, I’d do it myself!”

Like an idiot, I opened the door. Immediately, a small black bird was visible, and immediately, two of the smaller cats jumped into the stove. That drove the bird out into the room, where it began flying into windows and doors attempting to escape.

For a small creature, it packed a lot of power in its wings. It knocked several antique oil cans off a shelf and papers off of the cork board before coming to rest for a second on a windowsill. I was trying to get the back door open so that it could fly out, but before I got there, it buzzed my face close enough that I felt wind.

I jumped backward, hit the landing with my heel and fell. The door leading to the kitchen flew open from my weight landing on it, and I ended up on my back on the kitchen floor. Laughing at the absurdity of my situation, I watched from my supine position as the bird flew farther into the house and began crashing into other windows.

Finally, I got the front door open and the bird directed toward it. It flew away, unharmed, but with what I imagine was a pounding head.

Looking around at the mess in my house, I felt exactly the same way.

Laura Zoeller can be reached at zoeller5@verizon.net.