I have a Mockingbird. He has claimed ownership of the bird feeder—militant sentry bully bird, chasing away my beautiful Cardinal couple and every other Wren, House Finch, Nuthatch and Thrasher. Can you see him? Perfectly camouflaged, he blends in with this bleak monochrome winter palate.
Our dog does her best to deter this fearless feathered foe—charging and barking, like the frontline trooper that she is...alas, her nemesis takes flight with little effort, and if it were to be measured, a sassy attitude to boot.
This battle of wills goes on, all day, every day, with no end in sight. It was all fun and games at first, but casualties are starting to mount—the sliding glass door I can’t even talk about, it’s not pretty—the lawn, or what’s left of it, remains to be seen this Spring and I don’t know how many more hits the fragile fence (or my nerves) can take. 
I love my dog. I love my birds. “Warriors want a worthy opponent. There is no redress in fighting the pathetic.”―I love this life and all the crazy, daily interactions my eyes behold. What a gift it is to be here and to observe and muse over such folly!
Be well, peace.
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