About 10 years ago (long before the lovely birds in Springtown), I was home alone around Christmas time. I was in the bathroom, getting all prettied up. I heard something move in the kitchen. I walked out into the living room with my heart in my throat. I saw nothing. I went back in the bathroom, annoyed at myself for hearing things.
Then I heard the tinkle of a little bell. Specifically, the tinkle of a little bell on my Christmas tree topper. Again, I went out into the living room, and looked at the tree.
There was a bird sitting on the Santa's head. A bird. Just a plain old, cute bird. (I call them city birds-don't ask.)
Soooo, I decide that I should probably figure out how the f- it got in the house, and try to get it out. I open the back door, and wave my arms around like an idiot, telling the bird to 'Shoo'. It flies around the kitchen, lands on top of the cabinets, knocks something over in all it's nervousness, and.....
dive-bombs my head.
I run screaming into the hallway by the bathroom. It follows, and goes behind the TV. I peek out around the wall, and it comes at me again. Again, I scream, and run to my bedroom. I slam the door, and hear it's flimsy wings hit the door.
By this time, I have swallowed my heart, and I'm hyperventilating. I'm also yelling at the bird:
"What the shit is wrong with you?"
"I'm your friend. Sheesh!"
"Get the hell out of my house!"
I open the door a crack. A teeny tiny crack. Apparently, a teeny tiny crack big enough for the damn bird to fly through...right at my head. Again. I fall back, screaming, and at this point, I'm beginning to laugh at myself.
I finally get the nerve up to shoo the bird out of my room, down the hallway, and out into the living room. It perches itself on the top of the open door. And sits. And sits. And sits.
No amount of begging, pleading, yelling, or whining will get it to move. So I decide to go back to what I was doing, and figure it will fly out when it is ready.
Do you know what that little city bird did?
It sat at the top of the door and sang.
And then....it flew into the other door. Head-on. Fell to the floor, jumped up, dusted itself off, and flew out the open door, like none of this ever happened.
Of course, no one believed me when I told them it happened. But I swear I saw that little bird on the patio table later that day, looking in the back door.