A long time ago I told you about two of my biggest fears, alligators and needles. Well, it’s been a while, so I thought I would tell you about another one of my fears, so you can continue to think I’m absolutely ridiculous. I am also afraid of BIRDS.
I know what you’re thinking: Terah, they’re harmless.
ARE THEY? I don’t think so.
Let us take a step back. Birds are feathered assholes that carry diseases, use their beaks to attack and walk around like their better than everyone because their arms allow them to fly. Their wing span always bigger than you think and they do that dive thing to scare off predators and to catch food.
Now you’re thinking: what happened to Terah to make her afraid of birds?
First off, let me just say that they’ve always made me a little uncomfortable (Side note: Even worse are the people who have birds as pets. I mean they have wings. Let those demons fly; don’t cage them up). I never trusted a bird, not even Big Bird. My one friend’s mom had two parrots and I always thought their attitude was not warranted especially when the one bit me for no reason. I was so mad at the parrot that from that day, I decided to never trust a bird.
Then, the tipping point was when my brother and I were home alone in the middle of the spring. I hear a little rattle in the chimney. What could that be? Who knows. So I open the flu and ZING. A bird flies out of the chimney and into our house. He’s swooping, he’s diving, he’s freaking out and even worse he’s freaking me out. So I start yelling for my younger brother and I start to cry because I was convinced the bird was attacking me. Tyler runs downstairs expecting to see that I’ve split my head open on the hearth or chopped my hand off with a knife.
“Are you okay? What’s going on?”
Tears stream down my face. “THERE’S A BIRD IN THE HOUSE!”
At that moment I saw Tyler roll his eyes at me. He had been pretty good at hiding it his whole life up to this point. Let me also point out before I continue that I’m probably 12-years-old, making Tyler nine.
The bird swoops from the foyer into the kitchen, tries to get out the window and then retreats into the dining room. Tyler goes into the dining room, opens the window. The bird leaves. Tyler shakes his head walking past me and goes to his room. He may have made a comment at this point but I was in too much shock at what had just happened.
That evening when my parents got home I told them the story and neither of them attempted to make me feel better about the situation.
“Tee, it was just a bird.”
A few years later my dog, Kodi heard the same noise in the chimney, started crawling up it (she was part Pitbull, part Akita and part Spiderman). She grabs the bird with her mouth and then rips it a part in our living room. I saw the whole thing and screamed for my mother the entire time. Kodi then walks over to the closet where her food is kept and expects a treat for her valiant effort. I’m in tears and my mother comes running down the stairs expecting the worst (maybe a burglar holding me at gun point, or me falling and having them bone stick out of my leg).
“What is it?”
(Sobbing) “Kodi….killed….the….bird” (more sobbing) “I saw the whole thing” (tears) “it was terrible.”
More rolling of the eyes as my mother went into the closet, got Kodi a treat and then proceeded to grab paper towels and cleaner to pick up the ripped apart bird.
You can call me ridiculous or crazy. I’ll take it. I know I’m not crazy because I don’t become offended when people call me crazy (the true crazies are the ones you call crazy and they flip out and come close to attacking). I am genuinely afraid of birds.
One day I was walking with a friend at Marist and I got a glimpse of a bird and the shadow of its wings and I ducked and started screaming. She had no idea what was going on, and we laugh about it today, but I was afraid they were swooping.
Seagulls are the worst; no I do not want you to stalk me at the beach. Parrots are rude and talk back to you. And any other bird can die for all I care. The only bird I like is the peacock. Well, I like the way it looks and what it stands for. In real life, peacocks are jerks that get real aggressive real quick.
This sums it up: