Animalia and Me

How much I like a beast is usually determined by how much fun I have growling or shouting the name of their species at them, preferably while eating. While they're eating. Not me. Which is to say, I'm not eating or being eaten. By them. The beast is eating something else. Often another, smaller creature.

That being said, I have always had a fondness for the magpie - not only because my daughter's name is Maggie, and I call her that, but the black and white pigbird seems like one of the few members of the animal kingdom that seem quintessentially "beast." Warthogs are also good. Swine generally are pretty good. Like I said, I think it's the eating. I mostly think animals are the coolest when they are eating, and eating proudly. And while I don't think magpies generally have a that reputation, it has certainly been my experience. Squatty little things rooting for food, giving me a skeptical eye as they chew. So, like my daughter, I guess.

In any case, whenever I see a magpie, I've long made it a custom to growl "maaagpiiiiiie" at it. Or I shout, but not too loud. I'm not really trying to say "boo," I'm trying to connect with it on its level. If I'm in my car, I'll roll down the window to do it. I'm not sure why, but I tend to deliver the word like a hapless Nazi commander bemoaning the name of some Allied hero that is constantly a thorn in his side. 

So, magpies. I set all this up to tell you that I saw a magpie this morning.  It was crouched on the grass a few yards from where I parked my car in my workplace parking lot. It wasn't on the way to the door, but, as I've said, I enjoy a good magpie. So I went over to it, growling its name as I walked. It seemed to ignore me, greedily pecking away at some food in the grass until I got about three feet away. Usually they hop away squawking at around 10 feet. I'd never really had a good eye to eye conversation with a magpie, so I squatted down so my eyes were level with the creature and told it in plain english that it was a magpie. When I actually talk to animals (as opposed to growling at them or trying to mimic their speech), it usually consists of my asserting that they are the animal they are. "You are a dog," I will say to my sister-in-law's fidgety little Maltese every time I see it. It's important to remind the people of Malta of their place, you see, or they'll get uppity.

Right. So this is getting dangerously blathery. Long story short, the magpie was eating another bird. Not another magpie, but another feathery friend. Pecking at its innards happily. Horrifying enough, right? Right? What could be worse? Exactly.

IT WAS STILL ALIVE.

THE BIRD IT WAS EATING WAS STILL ALIVE.

I'm trying to convince myself now, after the fact, that the head lolling back and forth, the wing twitching, the leg kicking were all just, I don't know, inertia from the gut-pecking. That it truly was dead, and was only moving because the magpie was moving it around with its gory beak.

But really, I don't think it was. I think I heard a weak little cheep.

I sort of jerked up involuntarily when I realized this, and I think it was my intention to shoo the magpie away from its living meal, but when I stood up, it jerked its head toward me, staring, unmoved. And it growled. Like a dog. Like when they think you're going to steal their food. I have never heard a bird growl before, but there it was. Kind of a rapid clicksquawking.

And so I left the abomination alone. Was that wrong? I mean, really, the bird could have been dead. And even if it wasn't, it would be soon. Best case scenario, I would have scared the magpie away, and then had to mercy-crush the dying bird's head under my heel.

Disturbing enough, but with the chance that I would also gain a murderous psychotic enemy with the power of flight, I opted to just walk away.

And I could swear it laughed as I left. Some kind of low clicking creepy grunt. But it might just have been the sound of hollow bones breaking under beak-pokes.

I still like magpies, though. I hear they're lucky.

Comments

[Q]

Only YOU would meet a bird like that.

RR is beautiful. I think I need it.

[Gretchen]

This is SO much better than Hitchcock. It should be noted that I feel awful for laughing quite as much as I did from this story, but I'm going to be thinking back on this and getting a good chuckle for some time now.

[clairedelune]

im still wondering if any of what you say is true.

[Burning]

The Birds.

Once, there was this cat on my friend's farm that ate its own kittens. All except one, who turned out to have serious mental issues. It was like a bird, kind of. It kept trying to fly through windows.

[the wife]

You know what's really scary? This is true. Dean makes up the stories, but these real life bits are REAL. We have an ongoing discussion about whether he is a horror magnet, creates the horrific by his mere presence, or just looks when others turn away. Whatever the explanation...I shudder.

[Burning]

I would probably turn away from a magpie that looked like it was about to add me to its list of creatures killed. I get into enough trouble walking down stairs.

[Ryan S.]

Dear the wife,

Has Dean ever told you the story of when he was using a telephone and ants started to crawl out of the earpiece and into his ear? That is a good one.

[Enna Isilee]

*shock-ed face*

Notice the hyphen. I find things sound so much cooler when the "ed" is seperated. Shock-ed. It sounds like Shock Education. Hey, I would take that class.

[flyyhigh]

I miss the days when Microstory Mondays and Friday Fives were as regular as clockwork. I know you're probably busy and all that, but I still miss it...