I guess it all started some six years ago when two Osprey’s fornicated somewhere else and decided to make a nest in one of my two Norfolk Pines, on the starboard side of my house as you look east toward the entrance.  They are rather formidable trees, for they tower over a three-story house and are just seconds from the food chain in the Gulf of Mexico to the west that makes the red roof on my garage white.

For a while it was a charming addition to my beach front property on a barrier reef on Manasota key that is until one evening I ran over a fish, larger than I can catch.  It stuck to the tire on my car and the next morning my garage smelled like the Fulton fish market in Manhattan.

It was then that I thought of climbing the Norfolk pine and asking for some rental arrangement.

But after looking at the height of the tree, I thought better of the thought.

Now, as I understand it Ospreys are descendants of Eagles.

On one occasion my next store neighbor, an avid fisherman, caught a small fish and was releasing it from his line to throw it back from whence it came, when according to him, my Osprey swooped down and snatched it out of his hand.  The Osprey’s talons scratched his hand, but he said he wasn’t going to sue.

I don’t know where these birds screw or when, but sometime around Mother’s Day they throw their newborns out of the nest and let them fly.  Oh, and the parents help – I think.

A metaphor comes to mind every time I see this scene, I wish we could throw our President out of the White House and see if he can fly in this world in which an Osprey seems to survive even under these times of foreclosures.

But I’m getting off the subject.

A few years after the Osprey’s arrived the migration of Robins from the East was absolutely extraordinary.

Somehow, they found my next door neighbors property, whose hundreds of palm trees were not trimmed in decades and thousands of Robins became candidates for Betty Ford’s clinic of alcoholism.

They eat the berries, get drunk, slam into windows and seek out water because they are dehydrated.  We have a pool.  The day they invaded, my house looked like a scene from Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘The Birds’, I was running between the deck on the second floor of the house and the pool area chasing them away with a hose, only to realize that I was feeding their dehydration.

I really don’t want to describe the mess.  I had to call someone in to take care of it.

I think I’m as much of an environmentalist as Al Gore, I like flying in private jets, having multiple homes, spending bundles on electricity and winning the Nobel Prize, for environmental concerns.

So, I thought to myself – how about attracting small birds?

My wife’s parents always liked Cardinals.  I like them too – the male is prettier than the female.

How in the hell did that happen – was that the sign of the times to come? Sort of like don’t ask don’t tell?

Well, I decided that I was going to buy a bird feeder.  Now, I don’t go about things in a small way.  So I researched-out the best bird feeder for small birds.  I had enough big birds.

I came upon a National Geographic catalog, and there it was.  A global bird feeder that would attract small birds, prevent squirrels from coming in and it was global in design, made of steel and only cost $50.  That was my kind of bird feeder.

In fact the first thing that came to mind was that it was global in nature, you know we were no longer checking passports or birth certificates for presidents or who was crossing the border illegally, we were just redistributing wealth, so I thought, why not food.

It came by UPS and I couldn’t wait to fill it up with bird seed.  Hung it off the kitchen by my wife’s desk and waited for the small birds and Cardinals.

And low and behold, a Cardinal came by grasped the bars of the globe, entered, had a snack, looked around and probably said to himself. ‘ What am I the bird man of Alcatraz?’

He never came back.  I relocated the globe of a bird feeder to the upper deck and attached it to a railing in front of my office.

One day a Yellow Bird came by settled in and went in for a feast.  I had a camera, took pictures, he seemed to like the scene.  He even tried to get into my office, by banging into my window, but I think he saw his reflection in the window and was in love with himself.

A few days later he went away and never came back.  I again relocated the expensive feeder near the pool.  No one ever bothered it, not even the squirrels. The feeder rusted away, the seed as hard as Carmel popcorn from the Jersey shore.

But I wasn’t going to give up.  I reduced my expenses and bought bird feeders for an average price of $10, hung them under the soffits of the house and we got doves and cardinals and of course squirrels who ate most of the food.

The squirrels were chewing up the soffits with their paws to get to the bird feeders.  I pulled down all the bird feeders.  Repaired the soffits and repainted.

Put up a cedar pole, with a brass hanging holder and another expensive bird feeder in a sea of sea grapes. They, the squirrels had a field day.  I thought I was dealing with just one squirrel, only to find out he had three other friends, who he must have told about the feast in my yard. They all came like it was a field of dreams climbing up the cedar pole as though I just designed it for them.  Each patiently waited until one was full and then the next took its turn until the bird feeder food was finished off by the squirrels.

I took down the bird feeder and replaced it with a flower pot.

The next day one squirrel looked like he was impersonating the Statue of Liberty sitting on top of the pole with the flower pot below.

I went to Wall Mart and bought a $10 bird feeder called the Squirrel Stumper, it was a cage similar to the globe with the feed in the interior.

It was billed as a squirrel resistant metal cage, twist lock top with 8 feeding ports holding 3 lbs of seed.

Moved it back under the soffit.

Within no time the squirrel jumped from a ledge grabbed a hold of the cage and was munching away.

That afternoon I was talking to a colleague and he briefly excused himself because his young son came into his office and shot a dart gun at him.

He told me what had happened and I laughed, telling him the story of my problem with squirrels.

I said I was considering buying a water pistol to discourage the squirrels.

He said if I was going to do that he would suggest that I buy the ‘Super Soaker’, it was the best he said.  He didn’t recommend any knock off brands, because they broke down quickly.

So, I dashed out quickly to Wall Mart and bought two ‘Super Soaker’s’ one for my wife and the other for myself.  I figured we could break up the day in two shifts shooting this water soaker at squirrels so we could see cardinals.

Now this water whatever can be handled by anyone over the age of 6, so I thought my wife wouldn’t have a problem.  It has a distance up to 25 feet and its capacity of water ammo can be upgraded with ordinary large capacity soda bottles.

When I got home and before I could present my $7 present to my wife, and load my super soaker, the squirrel was feeding off of the squirrel stomper which I also bought at Wall Mart.

I don’t know, but somehow the way things are going,  I think this story is still developing . . .