Rescued!

The LBB
I am what is often called a "little brown bird".  I think I heard myself referred to as a "wren" one time.  But I don't really remember.  My brain is just a little bird brain, after all.
Speaking of small brains, mine does just fine for what I am to do.  I fly wonderfully, move with my friends a long way, it seems to me, when it becomes too hot or too cold.
I can also catch bugs. Spiders, flies, moths, generic bugs-I pick them up off the ground, off the branches of trees and shrubs and even in mid-air-did I tell you that I'm a great flier?
I protect my nest from all intruders, pecking with my sharp beak and flapping my mighty (if quite small) wings to drive off even larger birds.
And I can Sing!  I think  you can find recordings of my wonderful singing-or of some of my cousins'-if you try to find them.  Or you can listen for me in the mountain forest areas or even your backyard!
Back to my smallish-but perfectly capable and serviceable-brain.  You see, I am what they call "hard wired" for certain things.  Did I mention that I am a fabulous hunter of bugs?  Well, I am.  And when I am on course to pick a juicy moth out of the air, nothing can deter me!  Within a few flaps of my wonderful wings and a quick flick of my tail to zig and zag to follow a moth, my marvelous pointy beak will snap shut on the tasty morsel and-- Gulp!  Snack time!  Or, if there are little ones in the nest, I may take it back to feed them.  You should see me in action.  Quite impressive, if I do say so.  Not to bad-mouth moths (actually, they are not bad in the mouth at all...), but they really haven't figured out the flying thing very well.  They fly kind of jerky, up and down, side to side-and the slightest little breeze blows them off course.  Sometimes this makes it so they aren't as easily snapped up as at other times.

Which brings me back to the small (but quite serviceable-most of the time-) brain of mine.

When it was light before the dark we last had (would you call that "yesterday"?  I don't quite understand this concept of "days".  But I can fly and catch bugs). It was a warm day with a brilliantly blue sky with some puffy clouds, but no rain clouds.  A wonderful day for flying!
Where was I?.. Oh yes, I was chasing this very promising fat moth.  I had flicked and flittered several times (these are technical LBB -"Little Brown Bird"-flying terms.  No time to go into detailed explanation for you non-flyers), and I could smell and taste the fear coming off this fluttering (did I mention that moths don't really "fly"-flutter is the best they can do) snack.  No babies in the nest to take it back to.  They had already flown off on their own.  So this tasty treat was all for me!
Then, as my beak was closing around this fluttering food, there was the slightest shift in the breeze.  No problem for me.  I am, after all, quite a flyer. The moth shifted down and over-I'm sure it didn't intend to, but, hey-no problem for me.  Even though we were quite close to the top of one of the cabins in my yard, my skillful flying allowed me to grab the moth in mid-shift in the air! Another bug beginning to fuel me!
And then--Bang!  And all went dark.

The Grandpa
It had been a busy morning. It was the first day in a long time that we didn't have rain.  Grandma and I had come up to the cabin the day before.  We had slept well (important when you are a kid and when you get older) and had gotten up early to take the tandem (ask your parents, but you really should already know words like this one) kayak down to the lake.  Our purpose was to see if we could get the Scooter Dog into the kayak with us without him jumping out, slipping his collar or biting an innocent passerby (he has talent for all of these things-what a dog!).  Since this is not a story about Scooter, all I will say is that we paddled every arm of every arm of the reservoir, and took Scooter for a little walk in the middle of the paddle.
So, having worked hard to keep the kayak going straight (Grandma was in the back for a while...), and being an old man, I was tired when we got back to the cabin.  And what do tired old men do?  Correct!  They take naps.  So I stretched out in my favorite posture on the couch to catch a much-anticipated snooze.  I pretended to read for a few minutes-just to impress Grandma-but was soon in the arms of Morpheus.
I was peacefully catching z's when--Bang!, rattle rattle.  I jumped up from the couch (yes, you may laugh at the idea of Granpa "jumping" in any manner) and looked first for Scooter.  Scooter has been know to chew things.  Mainly shoes.  My shoes.  My work shoes...  So I thought maybe he had started chewing other things-like the bumper on the car, or the chain on the porch swing.  Something metal.
But, Scooter was dog-napping (not to be confused with "dognapping".  I don't even think a dog could snatch up another dog and hold them for ransom.  Good luck with that if you snatch up the Scoots...), and he had not made the noise I heard.  Or thought I heard.
Since I could find nothing wrong, I went about some chores for awhile.  I was outside working on something-Grandpas are good at not remembering sometimes-and then came back in the cabin.  When I came in, I heard a faint "peck-peck-peck" on what sounded like glass.  I looked around at all the windows in the room, but could find no source of the pecking.

The LLB
Yikes!  (Did you know that the word "yikes" originated within the Bird Kingdom?  I will try to remember to tell you about this another time.)  Where was I?  Oh, yes-
Yikes!  "Bang!"  I was just shutting my beak around a tasty critter, then it was dark.  And I flew into something solid.  And I started to fall, so I tried to fly away.  But I could not see where "away" was.  I could not see anything!  It was dark!  And my head, and its perfectly serviceable, if small, brain hurt. So I kind of flew where I could.  My wings hit solid black in every direction, and I could not flap them quickly or strongly enough to go Up.  Up is almost always safe (unless there is a hawk above you-another story for another time.  Suffice it to say that I am still here.  But so is the hawk).  But I could not go Up.  So I ended up fluttering-almost as clumsily as a stupid moth-Down.
I was sure I was doomed.  I landed in a heap in a soft bed of-----I don't know what.  It smelled like the smoke that came from the tubes on tops of the cabins in my yard, but it wasn't warm.  It did make me want to sneeze.  I make the cutest LBB sneeze sound.  I was in---something.  And I couldn't find my way Up.  I couldn't breath as deeply as I needed, and it got worse when I flapped and flittered about.  So I tried not to.  I really did.  But it was so hard to not try to get Out!  But-I couldn't get out.  I was trapped and did not know what to do.  Being the brave LBB that I am, but also being very focused, I decided that I would not panic, but I would also not stop trying to get out or fly Up.
There was one side of the box I was in that I could see through.  But it did not go Up or Out-not out into the fresh air and blue sky.  But I could see out of the box. So I started pecking with my wonderful, sharp, strong, pointy beak.  If I could pull bugs out of trees, surely my beak could get me Out!
But it couldn't.  No chips came off whatever I was pecking, no holes appeared.  But I Did Not Stop Trying.  So, I kept pecking.  "Rat a tat tat", rest.  "Rat a tat tat", rest.  I would keep that up until, well, until I couldn't!  Simple as that.  I Would Get Out.

The Grandpa (with a cameo by The Grandma)
After I looked at all the windows, my large (but not always as serviceable as I would like) brain told me that there was another pane of glass in the room.  I looked at our wood burning stove.  Our cold wood burning stove.  Remember-it was a warm day, so no fire in the stove.
I saw a LBB flitting about in the stove.  He would peck "rat-a-tat-tat", rest (sneeze-what a cute little bird sneeze), "rat-a-tat-tat", rest, sneeze, repeat.  He was relentless.   And cute.
Grandma was sitting outside in the sunshine, so I called her to come in.  I told her there was something in the stove.  She stopped when I said this, one foot in the doorway, and would not come in, thinking a rat or mouse had gotten in the stove.  I assured her it was the cutest LBB, so she came and took a look.  We quickly opened the front door wide, then opened the front of the stove, hoping the little fellow would safely fly out.

The LBB
As I was pecking out of the box in which I was trapped, I saw through the glass two giants come toward the box I was in.  I am familiar with Humans, as I see them often around the cabins in my yard, but I had never been trapped in a box with them in the same area. They were so ginormous up close like this! I could have been scared, but I determined to be brave.  So I kept pecking. Until the front of the box opened!  I was free!  I flew as swiftly as I could toward the Out!  "Bang!"  Something was keeping me from going Out!  I was again dazed and found myself on the floor.  I jumped up and flew toward Out in the other direction.  "Bang!!"

The Grandpa
So, I guess my large brain was not quite large enough!  I should have opened the windows and pulled the screens off.  That tough LBB had flow-quite rapidly-into windows on either side of the room and was now standing (sitting) on the floor.  I don't know how he managed to stay upright.  He was closest to the double doors out the side of the cabin.  We opened them both and I slowly approached the LBB, very slowly reached down toward him and...

The LBB
Things were spinning, my little brain hurt.  I was standing-but just barely.  I couldn't quite remember what, where, who.  But I did see the larger human sneaking up on me-reaching toward me.  Was he going to crush me and swallow me like a bug?  I let his hand get withing two feather widths, then took off in a powerful launch!  Except it wasn't.  So powerful, that is.  I managed to jump (but wasn't able to fly) and hop to the other side of what looked like a thick tree branch.  I knew I wasn't Out or Up, but had no more ability to move.

The Grandpa
What a tough little character!  But he did not move far.  A couple of feet.  I took several small, stealthy steps (yes, I can move stealthily when called for), slowly reached down and closed my hand around the little bundle of feathers.

The LBB
Yikes!  I tried, but my smallish brain and my amazing little flying body wouldn't communicate.  I told it to fly, launch, or at least hop-or even peck!  But it wouldn't.  I could see the huge hand reaching to me to crush me.  I could, at least, look the terrible giant in the eye as he squeezed the air out of me, crunching my tiny bones before popping me into his monstrous mouth.

The Granpa
Poor little guy!  He couldn't seem to move, and, as I closed my hand around his feathered little body, I could feel his stout little heart beating a very rapid staccato.  I very gently picked him up, expecting the sharp pointed beak to jab my hand.  I mentally prepared to not squeeze the little guy when he pecked me.  But he didn't.  He did look me in the eye, however, as if to say "See how brave I am!"

The LBB
Well-as you can probably guess-the Grandpa (that's what the other human called this one.  Do you think humans will ever learn to properly sing?) picked me up.  It took all I could do to not drive my sharp, pointy beak into his hand, but it did not seem like he was trying to crush me!
He picked me up and gently put me on a wooden post that was Out!  And I could see Up!  How wonderful!
But-I did not have the energy to even think about flying.  I was still in reach of these humans.  Would they come back to me when they needed a small snack?  The smaller one ("Vick", I think) went by me several times, but did not try to harm me.  I don't know how long I sat there, but, after the sun had moved across the sky just a little way, I had energy enough to launch and fly!  And a sweeter flight there has never been!  I was much too tired to do anything spectacular, but I could feel the wind in my feathers and I could see the Sun and Up! And I was Out!
I will try to remember (smallish brain, right?) to sing outside these human's cabin more often-my sweetest songs.

The Grandpa
The LBB sat for thirty or forty minutes, according toe Grandma, before he was able to take off.  I do hope he has eaten a few bugs and is feeling better.  He has had a much-too-exciting day.  Talk about an adventure!.  Flying into the small opening at the top of our chimney, ending up in our wood stove for an hour or so, banging into the windows and being carried by a giant!  What a tale he'll have!   If his smallish brain remembers.
The birdsong seemed to be sweeter that afternoon.

The LBB
I did sing that evening of my adventure and the courage I found.   I sang more loudly of the kindness of the humans kindness to release me from my doom and to no make a snack out of me.  And I sang of the wonderfulness of being Out and being able to fly Up.

Move along-nothing to see here...

So-it has been awhile since I visited this page with the intent to leave words on the page.  I have thought about it much for the past couple of months, but haven't been hit by inspiration, indigestion or sufficient indignation to actually write something.  I have been enjoying the bits of all of your lives that we get to see as we talk, visit, interact with kids and grandkids.  What a charmed life.
But-no stories have come to mind worth putting on paper-well, not on paper, to be accurate.

The promised tail of Fritz hasn't boiled enough to be palatable--wait--I meant to say "the promised tale for Fritz...".  The boiled tail of Fritz, these many years gone to doggy heaven, would not be palatable at all...

Quick-think of a German dog.  Got it?
Which dog did you come up with?

Did you think "Dachshund"?

Really?

Not German Shepard or Rottweiler or Doberman Pinscher or Saarloos Wolfdog?

I want to know how the Dachshund made it into the same list as the above fearsome-types of hounds.

From the all-knowing Wiki-
The dachshund (UK /ˈdæksənd/ or US /ˈdɑːkshʊnt/ dahks-huunt or US /ˈdɑːksənt/;^[2]) is a short-legged, long-bodied dog breed belonging to the hound family. The standard size dachshund was bred to scent, chase, and flush out badgers and other burrow-dwelling animals, while the miniature dachshund was developed to hunt smaller prey such as rabbits. In the American West they have also been used to hunt prairie dogs. Today, they are bred for conformation shows and as family pets. Some dachshunds participate in earthdog trials. According to the AKC, the dachshund continues to remain one of the top 10 dog breeds in the United States of America.^[3]

So there you go.  Someone needed to flush out badgers and chase rabbits down their holes and get after those stinkin' prairie dogs.  Hence, the noble Dachshund.

Well,  as said, I don't have all the source material to adequately tell the tale of the tail tonight (meaning I haven't talked enough with Grandma-or she is getting too old to remember enough-to get all the juicy tail, I mean "tale", bits).  So, we won't fritz with Fritz this evening.

Also, as I looked at previous blog entries (blentries?), I sensed there were too many recent ones that had gone to the dogs.  So I probably need to get off that scent.  Doggone it.

I just wanted to let you know that I haven't abandoned the blogoshphere again-not that that would be earth shaking. ( Don't you just love it when you can use the same word twice in a row and have it be grammatically correct?!)

I do intend to get back to some tales from the past, and I hope they have some meaning, or at least some chuckles or maybe even an "aha".  Alas, I don't dare to aspire to a "And Then What Happened?", but you never know.  Until next time.