One of our “pet” Stellar’s Jays. Though I imagine they think we are their pets rather than the other way around.
Every day, without fail, one or two, and up to six, of the jays are waiting for Kirk to give them their allotment of peanuts. They have recently discovered that Kirk works upstairs three days of the week. The windows on the office face a different direction but they have learned that they can visit him in a new place. “Hey look, it’s peanut guy, here’s where he hides all day!”
We agree that we simply can’t feed them up there since the consequences would be unfavourable. We can just imagine them on the deck, outside the screen door to the bedroom, squawking at us in the early hours before we get up …. “…Hey, peanut guy…we’re hungry…get your butt out of bed and get downstairs to feed us breakfast!!…”
Last week I was working at home alone and had the door to the back deck open. I’ve recently started rolling Gizmo’s cage into the dining room so he’s sitting close to me all day…seems to keep him a little less shrieky, which keeps my blood pressure down a bit. It worked this week anyway. And when he does get wound up I can just wave the squirt bottle at him threateningly and he gives me a baleful look but does go quiet.
But last Wednesday the weather was warm and I opted to open the deck door wide since Gizmo wasn’t next to it and I wouldn’t have to worry about him being startled and flying out into the yard.
I heard a noise…a tapping…something “tinking” against glass.
I rolled my chair back and the jay was standing in the middle of the living room looking at me, then hopped back to the peanut jar and started banging on it before belting out a few squawks. When I stood up he flew back out the door and to the feeder…which was empty. I’m just glad he didn’t fly a different direction and get himself trapped in the house, which he has done before.
Smart.
Sassy.
Our little blue buzzard.
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