The Birds

[osprey_archer]

The University of York campus is infested with ducks.

Now, I am fond of ducks. Ever since I was a tiny child I’ve liked to feed ducks, and added to that now is the peculiar pleasure of knowing that duck’s feet slap against the pavement with a sound like flip-flops when they’re out wandering.

However, there is trouble in paradise. Along with ducks, the University of York campus is infested with coots.



Coots are black-feathered birds with round bellies that taper up to tiny heads and sharp red beaks, and three-toed gray feet with parasail webbing. They’re also evil. If you don’t feed a coot fast enough, it will peck you. Even geese don’t attempt to peck the hand that feeds them.

Unfortunately, when the coots first pecked me I responded by hurling my last piece of bread at them and scuttling. Now they’re out for blood.

Yesterday, I finished up the last of a loaf of bread. I took the heels out – peering around fitfully for coots – then tiptoed up to the weeping willow tree, hid myself among the foliage, and fed the ducks drifting there under. Mallards mostly; a few ruddy shelducks.

These were tiny bread heels. One of them was really just a bread shred.

But – but – when I emerged from the foliage, breadless, a score of coots were waiting for me. In attack formation. Attack-squawking. (All coot noises are attack squawks. If they aren’t chasing after duck-feeders they’re attempting to peck each other to death.)

I had no bread to distract them with, so I eased myself back a step.

The coots drifted forward.

I clenched my hand around my purse strap and wondered if I had the guts to smack an erring coot with it, as I minced back farther.

The coots moved forward. Some of them flapped their wings. More squawking.

I wondered if the coots would attack en masse anyone who hit one of their number. It would be like a scene from The Birds. Everyone would snicker into their handkerchiefs at my funeral because this was such a Darwin Awards way to die.

One of the coots broke formation and made an end run at my ankle.

I shrieked and tossed the empty bread bag at the coot. It turned sharply, just in case this was FOOD – and I ran.

And they followed.

I thought of their wings and the possibility of bleeding to death from coot bites to the back of the neck, and ululated quietly as I scuttled up the sidewalk.

Their three-toed feet smacked like flipflops as they followed.

I reached the building door.

The combination wouldn’t work.

I turned to face my attackers! –

—and the rest of the tale can’t be aired on broadcast television. Gruesome, man. Just gruesome.

(The coots gave up at the sidewalk. I think they were just too lazy to keep following me. So many other students they could peck, after all.)

Comments

[asakiyume.livejournal.com]

What bullies! The hoodlums of the waterfowl world.

[redskyis.livejournal.com]

Don't feed them, you'll only encourage this bullying behavior! Though of course if it comes down to being stalked by evil birds or possibly carrying around small bits of bread to distract them with, I'd say go with the third option: carry a large stick. Of course, that might just be the fencer in me talking...

The ducks sound cute, though :D and it must be nice to have wildlife. We have quite a few stray cats on campus, but it's not like I can pet them, or anything.

[osprey-archer.livejournal.com]

I probably could pet the ducks. If I was very brave/foolish. That's a rather alarming thought. But if I had the big stick, I could use it as a teaching opportunity for them...

I don't see too many cats around, but there are a lot of dogs (although all connected to people).