The Flicker is back. Aarggggh! I am prevented by the law, popular opinion, my place in the community, God and Dianna from buying an air rifle, so it’s on to plan B. Rocks. For those who have followed the flicker saga you know that this spring we repaired the holes, cleaned out the nest and took away any place where it could perch to peck. Ha! It’s clinging to a chimney brick and taking pecking shots at the siding. Bolder than ever, it just sits there staring at me when I come out to yell at it. However, I’ve got pretty good with a small supply of pebbles and a decent right arm. Haven’t actually hit it yet, but come close enough to make it fly off to a tree in another yard where it waits for me to go back inside. I’m trying to train the dogs to go out and bark at it but they seem disinterested. Unless it’s a squirrel, Riley could care less. Andy only barks at imaginary ax murderers and Riley. I’m sure there is a theological lesson in here somewhere that explains All Saints Sunday and the doctrine of transubstantiation, but I haven’t found it yet.
