Lee Taylor Works

Birds are the pinnacle disruption affecting my wife. Her fear of feathered friends is debilitating, whether observing them at a parking lot, strolling on the beach, or staring at them perched on the top of our home. She screams, cusses, flinches, curls up, and, in many cases, all the above. Even birds flying in the distance can distract her from an engaging conversation. Seeing birds is the most prevalent thing impeding our lives. It is not even close.
Where did this fear come from? As a 15-year-old girl, my wife was nipped on her wrist by a parrot at a bird show. I’ve seen the video. She is a parrot attack survivor. The suburban shopping mall courtyard featured a group of “birdkeepers,” if you will. She waited patiently in line with her three besties, observing the smiling reactions of the participants who got an opportunity to let a bird perch on their wrists.
After several minutes in line, it’s finally her turn. She steps forward confidently and without concern. The keeper allows the bird to step onto her arm. She clinches slightly, squinting for some reason. The parrot feels this tension, and things quickly escalate out of control. The bird begins to flap its wings wildly. The talons dig in under her skin for stability. She has the scar to prove it. She will show it off to validate her reaction, not much bigger than the space between the words in this sentence. I don’t ask questions.
Her friends point and laugh at her, unaware of the sharp pain she feels. The keeper moves in to retrieve the animal and alleviate her fear, but the damage is done. She will never be the same, like innocence lost.
The realization that birds are everywhere has been noted. My wife stares at the sky as we drive, observing birds flying overhead. She spies birds in the trees. She sees bird shadows streaking across the ground and gasps. She will avoid caged birds at all costs as they chirp for freedom. She dodges all sizes and shapes of birds. I once saw a seagull steal my son’s PBJ from his hand on the beach. He is also a bird attack survivor. He overcame his fear and still loves birds today.
A customer once had a pet bird but refused to visit, so the bird was relocated to the warehouse. The “eek” my wife cries out to these cute little creatures causes strangers to turn and be confused. I snicker every time. Years ago, I introduced her to my dear, sweet mother, who showed my wife their backyard. The picket fence had row after row of birdhouses tacked up, with bird seeds splattered along the ground. My wife has not stepped foot in their backyard since.
For her safety, I shoo birds away all the time. To passersby, I look like an aviary hater. To my wife, I’m a Roman warrior. The cute little things are scared to death of me, except for temperamental geese. I don’t mess with them. There are too many hilarious social media reels to back up the likelihood of a goose standing its ground. Seeing these posts could set my wife back years.
I often wonder if her fear of birds will subside someday, and our walks could be filled with calm and peace. I hope the disdain that bird show parrots created many years ago will diminish. If it doesn’t, prepare the kids for her sailor’s mouth if we happen by a winged friend near you.