I sat up and felt for the covers when the sharp pings punched the air. Was I at home, in bed, where I should be at 4:30 am? Yes. Was someone shooting at us? Probably not. So what on earth was the racket? Further investigation revealed Mr. Woody Woodpecker sitting on our furnace chimney and regaling us with his impression of a machine gun. After a couple of minutes he flew to the neighbors and the sound dropped to a soft echo one could fall asleep to.
And then he returned! This went on for two hour intervals, day and night, for a week and a half. I was starting to develop a twitch in my shoulder and several symptoms of PTSD. We had to do something. I strategized with the neighbors on how to best do away with the protected species. They didn’t think the pellet gun would accomplish the job and they said shooting the shot gun in town might develop a whole different type of problem.
Matt thought we should follow the safest course of action and buy some sharp wire spikes like we’d seem on European restaurant roofs. Off to the hardware store we went. The fellow behind the counter stroked his eighteen inch beard and shook his head. No, they didn’t carry anything like that; in fact, he’d never heard of anything like that. Perhaps we should try making a papier-mâché owl.
I’m not a sculptor. A giant lump of flour and water resembling ET would not trick our feathered nemesis. And what if it rained? An idea popped into my head. We should form a large globe of chicken wire, wrap it around the chimney top, and wire it on. The little fellow wouldn’t be able to reach the tin and my symptoms would probably diminish in about six months or so.
Matt took the idea even further and fashioned the tidy solution you see here. Yay teamwork!
And now you know why he wraps all the presents.
“Iron sharpens iron, and one man/woman sharpens another.” (Proverbs 27:17 ESV)
Have a super week!