November 22, 2022•551 words
It was uncharacteristically sunny, not warm, but not really cold either. Unseasonably mild for the latter half of November. The perfect weather really to get a bit of fresh air in the house. As I often do I opened the kitchen door wide, allowing the air to waft in as I sat at the breakfast bar on my laptop, pretending to work, or at least pretending to intend to think about starting work.
As I flick through the news online, needing no help to find a distraction, I decide my procrastination should at least be productive. I write a quick entry to post on here, I tidy the place a little, make a coffee. Ok, I think, now I really should do some work.
I check the news again. Nothing out of the ordinary was happening, just the normal depressing things, climate change and war. As if sensing my dismay a well as my desire to avoid work, Louise, my robin friend, pops to the door to say hello.
"Hello Louise," I say, she puts her head on the side - I'm not quite sure if she understands me. Still, I can tell we're friends, there is an undeniable fondness there. Despite this unwavering bond, I let her know she can't come in.
"No, you can't come in," I gently shoo her away.
I get back to my laptop, momentarily distracted as she darts back in. I sigh, I stand up, she hops out the door.
"We're not playing a game," I tell her, just in case she thinks she is being cute. She's not. Well she is, she's always cute, but the game itself was not.
No sooner had I sat down than she was in the kitchen again, but with a boldness she'd been lacking the previous times. She headed towards the stairs, so I stood up, just to remind her that she wasn't really allowed inside. She turned around and started to hop, but alas, she went behind the glass door.
Suddenly she was not so brave any more, unsure as to why she couldn't get through the glass. She tried to fly out, but could only fly up. Realising she was trapped she turned around, flying straight up stairs into the bedroom, relieving herself on the way. This was all in a matter of seconds, I rush up stairs, hearing the panicked thudding of Louise against the sky light as she tried to get out.
I opened the window wide, and she flew to freedom. Sadly I was too slow, and there was robin poo everywhere. Who knew that such a small bird could defecate quite so much. Splatter up the walls, on the carpet. It was surprisingly black.
How do you even clean bird poo out of a carpet? I grab some wipes, cleaning what I can. It was not how I had planned to spend my morning.
All in all it took about half an hour to clean things to a sensible level, and after some thorough hand washing later I open the door and sit back down, still slightly worried about Louise, hoping she'd not been too traumatised by the whole affair.
Ten minutes later and she was back, having to be reminded she can't come in.
I guess she was fine after all.