I had intended to sleep in this morning but was awakened shortly after dawn. THUDthudthudthud. What the hell? I got up and looked outside the house. Nothin’. Hunh. I crawled back under the covers. THUDTHUDTHUDthudthudthud. Thud. THUD. THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD. Thoroughly annoyed, I could localize the noise to the roof. Sounded like a bunch of basketball players were up there bouncing the ball back and forth and running between the baskets. Sonofabitch. The buzzards are back on the roof. I gave up on sleep and picked up a book.
Later, when SwampMan was up, I opened the front blinds. Buzzards were lined up on top of the kids’ swing and another bunch were busily engaged in tearing the shade cloth off the top of one of my portable chicken pens. SONOFABITCH! “Look at THAT!” I exclaimed to SwampMan. “I’ve been coming home every day to find the shade cloth torn loose and have refastened it every night only to find it loose and wadded up when I get home. Guess they’re looking to see if anything edible is underneath.” I had had some wool out drying on a screen. That was scattered EVERYWHERE. Maybe they figured with all that wool just lying there, a dead sheep just had to be underneath. Some buzzards were chillin’ on our furniture on the front porch. Others were hoppin’ around with the ducks.
“Hey, you reckon the buzzards up on our roof are tearing the shingles off like they’re tearing the shadecloth?”
SwampMan was not amused. He grabbed the shotgun and went outside to shoot into the air. I thought 12 rounds was a little excessive.
SwampMan came back inside. “I can’t stand them things bein’ here. Gives me the creeps. You need to get rid of ‘em.” Hunh. He acts like I found them standing beside the road looking lost, loaded ‘em all up, and brought them home.
When we got home from a quick trip to the hardware store, I noticed the buzzards were back but this time they were up in the big oak tree in front of the house trying to be invisible. SwampMan didn’t see them. I think they know that SwampMan is not allowed to shoot them for real. I know why they’re here, of course. We have big trees (and a house and barn) for them to sit around on, we have lots of ducks and chickens running around loose so they figure it’s safe, and we’ve got water for them to drink. It’s been a real dry year, and we’re getting all kinds of wild critters comin’ on the property lookin’ for a drink because the creeks and ponds have no water.