We interrupt your regularly scheduled program for this TDB Special Report. I'm your astute
doggie reporter Chester L. W. Spaniel.
The other day we reported on a notorious poo-bombing campaign being carried out on ghostwriter's car in the driveway. Look at those gigantic splats!
|The lovely view from inside ghostwriter's car. Yucky!|
We've been trying to figure out who the culprit was. Below is a picture of the spruce tree and the driveway that's been adorned with birdie poop. We can note that the trajectory of those poo-bombs points directly to that very spruce tree.
We already know Mr. and Mrs. Wormgrinder, the robins, have a nest in that tree about halfway up the left side. We've seen LuLu Wormgrinder sitting on the nest, while her husband Brad violently attacks any birdies who come near. Their babies only make little peeping sounds, so we don't think they're big enough to make those huge poo-bombs. (In case you didn't know, birds like robins and grackles feed their babies in the nest, and then carry away the babies' poops so the nest doesn't get all soiled.)
Well, this evening, ghostwriter was looking out the front door at the possibility of a nice sunset …
… when look who flew out of the very tip top of the big spruce tree:
Ah-ha! That's a grackle! I didn't get a good look at it, but I think it might be Chuck Turdflapper or his wife Dimwitty. I could hear the nestlings squawking loudly as he flew out of the tree! Oh joy! There must be three or four of the little gargoyles up there!
I kid you not! Here's a picture of little Squatty Dingleberry from a couple years ago. If that's not a homely baby, then you need to get your eye balls checked!
Well, anyway, that explains where the poo-bombs are coming from. Ghostwriter told Dad that he'd better get the hose out of the shed and hook it up so she can wash the poopies off her car.
But, I think she just wants to zap some of the Great Grackle Flying PTA (Poop Tosser's Association) right out of the sky! Seriously, it's not a good idea to get ghostwriter angry by pooping all over her car!
Consider yourselves warned, birdies!
Oh, and don't worry. Ghostwriter won't spray the babies with the hose, even if they are ugly.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled program already in progress.
Hey, it's a full moon tonight. Hi Princess!