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Little birds

A wise man once said, “A bird in the hand, is worth two in the bush.” What an idiot.

A couple of weeks ago, we had a breach of security at the place I work. An intruder made his and/or her way into the inner sanctum of our once impenetrable building. Past the alligator-filled moat, past the brick walls, past the razor-sharp concertina wire, past the steel doors, past the uzi-clad guards with itchy trigger fingers, past the blood-thirsty Doberman Pinschers and Rottweilers, past all of the security cameras, heat-seeking missiles and sharks with lasers on their heads. It takes a truly deceptive, evil and devious mind to make it by all of these obstacles. A great deal of planning had to be involved.

A sparrow had entered our domain. As I have pointed out on previous occasions, little birds freak me out. Sparrows are basically mice with wings, and mice are just small rats, and rats were the underlying cause of the bubonic plague in Europe in the 1980s that caused the deaths of a bunch of people who talk like Monty Python. From this, I can logically infer that little birds can kill me. Also, in doing some intensive research, I discovered that birds are the primary carriers of bird flu in the United States and its coastal provinces. Plain and simple, birds are bad hombres. That’s science talking, not me.

Add all of this to the fact that birds are just so darn twitchy and nervous. Their little heads are always jerking around with those scary, blinky eyes of terror. I just know that they’re always up to something dastardly. This is just another example.

Somehow this evil beast had enough cunning and wherewithal to slip past all of our defenses and infiltrated our building. Actually, he might have flown in a door on the loading dock when a truck was here, but who really knows for sure. He was pretty shifty.

At this point in the tale, I should tell you that as much as I dislike little birds, I work beside a lady, we’ll call her Teresa, who hates them even worse. She’s told me stories about her fear of the creatures. I used to find it hard to believe. I used to.

The other day, as she and I worked on our computers, another coworker, we’ll call him Jonny, called out, “Whoa! Did you see that bird?!?”

I immediately felt the blood pressure of the room rise. I turned in my chair to see how Teresa was doing. All I saw were her big scared eyes scanning the plant for the rumored bird. I was pretty busy at the time and didn’t think the bird would fly into our computer room anyway. You can imagine my surprise when I heard Jonny say, “Whoa! Did you see that bird fly in here?!?”

As I turned my head to see how Teresa was handling this new development in the situation, I saw an empty chair spinning around. After that I heard the door to our room shut and possibly large pieces of furniture moved to block the door until the sparrow had been captured and dispatched.

Three of us, two grown men and myself, were locked in the room with the beaked terrorist. I remember thinking to myself, “What are the chances of this bird even coming near me?” That is when I heard somebody say, “Hey Greg, the bird’s coming at you.” Uh-oh.

I tore my eyes away from the computer monitor and looked to my left. There he was, not three and a half feet away from me. He stared at me with disdain in his twitchy, blinky eyes. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like the future of the human race rested on my slouchy shoulders. Whatever was I to do?

I grabbed a purple sweatshirt that was draped over the back of another chair and tossed it on top of the monster. That was it. The battle was over. I wish I had something more exciting to tell, you but that was it. I gently picked him up in the sweatshirt, and Jonny and I escorted the sparrow to the outside of the building and set him free. Teresa sprayed down the room with Lysol. It was something that needed to be done anyway.

So to all of you animal lovers out there, I’m happy to report the little sparrow was released, safe and sound, practically unscathed, fluttering back out into the big, wide world. Spreading disease and pestilence to one and all. You’re welcome.

You can contact Wallace at You can follow him on his blog at

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