Thursday, May 25, 2006


I respect the sentiment once expressed by the outlaw Josey Wales who said, "Buzzards gotta eat, same as worms". But I'm beginning to dislike these ugly suckers. Especially when they make cheeky fly-bys of My Osprey Nest when Mamma ain't around to kick their sorry buzzard butts. All while Fugly Buzzard sits there looking at me - close enough that I could just about hit 'im upside da head baddabing wi't a pipe - just wishin' I were dead.


buddy larsen said...

Maybe Mother Nature wants you to take up an arrangement of wood and coked iron ore, load into it some packages of elements & minerals such as nitrogen, sulfur, and lead, and release by muscle-powered trigger-finger the chemical energy into kinetically-charged lead directed at the carrion-eaters, befo they hurts them babies.

Knucklehead said...


I was pondering the feasibility of just such an exercise this very morning. Fugly Buzzard I coulda got; heck, I coulda probably nailed him with a rock. But since the last time I tested my ability to deliver such a package at any distance greater than a stone's throw I could just barely get 5 of 5 onto a paper plate at 110 yds I think Flyby Buzzard was quite safe.

Since Flyby didn't see fit to get closer than a dozen or so feet above the nest or to make a second pass I suspect Ospring II is reasonably safe at the moment.

Nevertheless, and despite my mom's admonition to never wish away even a moment no matter how uncomfortable, I'll be happy when the nasty looking brutes turn their attentions elsewhere.

Anonymous said...

As in ka-blammo?

Well, maybe metaphorical ka-blammo, anyway.

Actually, I'm still struggling to keep the friggin' cat away from our birdhouses by peeling her off tree trunks just in the nick of time. Every morning. Repeatedly. Panoptic, unceasing vigilance. I feel like a warden keeping an eye on the psychos . . .

buddy larsen said...

All those years of Tweety and Sylvester study at last come to use!

Anonymous said...

Not only that, the friggin' cat is a dead ringer for your aforementioned Termite Terrace creation.

Dead? Did I say that?

Syl said...

It's hard isn't it. Nature is a bitch.

I still think creatures are better off in zoos.

Protect your zoo. You have my permission. Just don't kill it because it probably has baby uglies to feed.

The food chain and competition. Who knew God is a capitalist.

Knucklehead said...

You are, even for you, unusually impactful today. Now I long for the days of yore when we had culturally instructive and entertainingly educational cartoons.

chuck said...

I feel like a warden keeping an eye on the psychos . . .

We live in the jungle, it's just been downsized.

Anonymous said...


I always imagine a bunch of Jewish guys in a clapboard bungalow on Sunset Boulevard doing to Wagner what should be done to Wagner.

buddy larsen said...

haw -- "Kill the Wabbit" --right up there with Mickey and the Broom in "Fan (don't bogart that joint)tasia". Reminds of an all-time bad riddle:

The answer is 9W; what is the question?

"Do you spell your name with a "V", Herr Wagner?"

buddy larsen said...

Mark Twain said Wagner's music is "much better than it sounds."

Anonymous said...

I just went outside and the friggin' cat (TM) gave me one of her classic "Who, me?" looks.

No buzzards in our trees out back. Right now. But I've got my eyes open.

Rick Ballard said...


While the aforementioned 870 is the tool of choice for final rectification of the unfortunate situation it's use creates a potential for noise pollution which might draw unwanted attention. I have found this Crossman product to be rather effective in dissuading obnoxious fowl from remaining in the area. Clipping a few tail feathers works rather well.

I'm still trying to figure out a solution to the midnight crawdad feeds that the local otter hold on the dock.

Anonymous said...


I'm still trying to figure out a solution to the midnight crawdad feeds that the local otter hold on the dock.

Antisubmarine nets, with the outer perimeter patrolled by frogmen. We have relatives who have a beachfront cabin on the Olympic Peninsula and have discussed this at great length. It is the only option.

Knucklehead said...


I know some humans who would gleefully join your otters in that midnight crawdad feed. Which reminds me of that ancient axiom, "A man could starve eating crayfish."

I surmise that you disapprove of the midnight feeds by the otters because you have other plans for said crawdads? Please provide time and date for the boil. I'll bring the snaps.

Knucklehead said...


I once tried something similar to save my highbush blueberries from birds. All it did was convert "Save the blueberries!" interruptions into "Save the poor bird!" interruptions.

It was somewhat worse than a straight trade.

When I failed to save blueberries at least they were gone and the matter caused me no further consternation or effort.

When I failed to save the birds it quickly escalated into, "Don't let the cat eat it!" followed by a few moments of spade work.

buddy larsen said...

Wonder who was the first person to pick up a crawdad and say "Hey, let's EAT this thing!"

Anyhoo, trying to locate an extremely funny Friggin Cat (tm) video I'd been sent and then lost, I came across a perfect meld for the cat n' German opera subthread.

Anonymous said...

. . . a few moments of spade work.

I am proud, he said smugly, of not having to perform a single avian burial.

But this is because the friggin' cat (TM) can always hop the fence to the neighbors yard to continue her evil business unmolested.

We have no effective control of our borders; that is the problem.


The very first one, emerging from the sofa cushions - that is the friggin cat (TM), incarnate.