Helping the Homeless

Sunday morning I walked out of my patio door and was attacked! The culprit got away. But an hour later, when I returned from the grocery, the hubster came out to carry bags and was attacked! It was time to put a halt to it right then and there.

He tried reasoning with Ms Robin. She was having none of it though. She was almost done with the building of her nest and wasn’t about to move it from the crook of our patio table umbrella. 

Yup, the goofy robin was building a nest in the crook of the umbrella on our patio table. So every time we would walk in or out of our patio door—which is our main door—she would perceive it as a threat to her nest and go in attack mode. We had taken the nest down once, but she built it again in the same spot in a matter of hours.

 

The hubster gently takes her nest down and places it in a nearby bush. Then, to deter her from rebuilding the nest, he took the umbrella down. It broke my heart to see the robin return ten minutes later, with more building materials for her nest, only to find it gone. Since then she has sat on the edge of the patio table, staring at the spot where the umbrella and her nest had been. I feel like a horrible, cold-hearted person because we’ve caused one of God’s creatures to be homeless.

 

I feel so bad that I had the hubster put her nest in the crook of the downspout to the gutter in hopes that she would move in there instead of lamenting her old home. But I guess even with birds it’s all about location, location, location. Because despite having a home—ready to move into—mere feet from where the umbrella used to be, she spent most of the day sitting on the edge of that table staring at where her nest used to be. You could almost see her thinking, “If I stare long enough my nest and the umbrella will reappear.” Sorry Ms. Robin, it doesn’t work that way in this neighborhood.