Mar 24, 2010

I'LL GET YOU MY PWIT-TEES

My mom can't come to the blog right now. I've sent her off to the library to get a book about birds. Stupid little jackass twittering birds that have black heads and grey bodies, to be exact. I was having my morning constitutional when all of a sudden I felt a nip on my heiney. Seeing how I was "otherwise engaged" at the time, there wasn't a lot that I could do about it, but when I finally was able to turn around, all I saw was feathers and two beady little eyes mocking me. The nerve.

Mother, apparently, really doesn't have one single maternal bone in her big fat body, because all she could do was stand there in her robe and gleefully holler "Oh look, Stewey! Those birds are giving you little kisses on your heiney!"

Kisses, my a**. They were attacking me and took several little chunks of fur from my nether regions without so much as a "how do you do".

So I sent my stupid mom off to get a book about these little bast**ds so that I will know the most effective way to rid the world of them once and for all.

Forgive my surly mood today, please. Between the joy that is the "Wild Animal Kingdom" in the backyard and my mom's stitchy funk, I am about ready to lose my mind. Last year at this time I was sunning myself on the beaches of St. Tropez. This year I'm getting my heiney pecked by birds while coyotes run amok. What a difference a year makes.

Mom did work on Springtime Bouquet a bit yesterday. She is enjoying this piece, but for some reason her fingertips are getting very very sore from pushing the needle through the canvas. Methinks it's time for her to start using a thimble. If she's very very good and makes me a decent lunch today, I might consider sharing a few of the ones that I've stashed away in my fort. (What can I say? I like shopping on QVC as much as the next guy, and a deal's a deal.)

That's about it from here, folks. I do hope that you are off to a pleasant SpringTide and that all is well in your little corner of the world.

With love from your pal,
Stewey

18 comments:

  1. Oy, my sweet prince, Stewey. I cannot imagine it is at all pleasant getting nipped in the backside by a bird(s). So, I hope Mother has found an appropriate book for you to peruse. Lovely pic of you, by the way. And Mother's Springtime Bouquet is looking lovely!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Poor baby! I would not like to be pecked by anything, nevermind a bird! Give your mom a little bit of a break though. She probably didn't realize they were tormenting you so much.

    Her Springtime Bouquet is beautiful!

    ReplyDelete
  3. What a terrible time you are having with all the critters you have around your yard! Perhaps if you would pee more around the yard and less on the drapes, your manly scent would scare all the critters away!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Poor Stewey! I certainly wouldn't want some random birds nipping my heiney either. I love the Springtime Bouquet and hope your mo-ther gets out of her stitching funk soon.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Springtime Bouguet is coming along nicely. Sorry the birds are picking on Stewey - they do seem to know the "best" time to dive bomb a guy!

    ReplyDelete
  6. How funny! Are they plucking his hiney fur to feather their nests? Too odd!

    ReplyDelete
  7. Coni--

    check out a bird called "Tufted Titmouse."
    They will often pluck fur from dogs, other critters
    or, sometimes, people. They line their nests
    with it.

    Love reading your blog!

    Tina
    born in Mishawaka, Hoosierland!

    ReplyDelete
  8. I daresay Stewey you might want to be on the lookout for that bar of soap that will surely be heading your way once your Mo-ther reads your posting today. Such language from one of registered pedigree, such as yourself, is enough to giver her the vapors.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Stewey,
    Boo Boo Kitty here, I'll come knock those birds off you! I'm a bruiser of a maine coon cat! I weigh 23 pounds, tell your Momma, you'd have to come to GA to pick me up though!
    I love ready all about you!
    DaisyGirl

    ReplyDelete
  10. Yeah, Boo Boo Kitty again, I'm sorry to say, I didn't graduate, I really did mean reading!

    ReplyDelete
  11. Oh dear Stewey, that's terrible that there is no privacy in your backyard!

    ReplyDelete
  12. Now Stewey, repeat after me; I am a dog!
    That means you tell the birds what to do and call the shots!
    After all you direct your Mo-ther in the manner in which she attends your needs.What hurts more little man, your nether end or your pride?
    Crumbed deep fried birdie could be considered a gourmet choice for your dinner!
    from Karen in Australia

    ReplyDelete
  13. Stewey, you are wise to curl up like that so you can keep a close watch on your heiney! Clearly the old adage to "watch your back" should have said to "watch your backside!" My kittens felt so bad for your poor, injured dignity that they brought me a gift of a dead bird in order to avenge your honor.

    Your Mo-ther is making wonderful progress on the LJP. Another lovely piece from Chez Spinster!

    Anne

    ReplyDelete
  14. Poor Stewey - Puckster the springer has learned to spring back at the Mockingbirds and also the nssty bluejays! Springtime Bouquet looking spring-ly.

    And, well, the Handbasket to Hell has many companions of similar scale - you're never alone in stitchyworld!

    ReplyDelete
  15. Poor Stewey, you need a watch cat. And I'm sorry but I did almost choke on my cereal this morning with the visual of you in the yard. You might want to offer your mom a treat (thimble) for accompanying you to the yard until the bird population is under control. Bribery is a good thing especially when you own the stash. Springtime Bouquet is lovely and the thought of spring even lovelier.

    ReplyDelete
  16. LMAO! Stewey...you are priceless!!

    Loving mom's Springtime Bouquet...

    HAPPY STITCHIN' (and bird hunting)
    Terri

    ReplyDelete
  17. Stewey, I know that those birdies must be annoying, but you should be honored. They like the looks of your fur and it will keep little baby birds warm and dry this Spring after they hatch.
    I used to comb my Samantha, a golden retriever outdoors, and the hair would form small clumps, rolling across the lawn, Even though my kids and I were out there, brushing our dog, the birds would fly down right by us, to pick up the choicest hair to line their nests.
    Ask your Mommy to either brush you outside, or to put the hair that she collects on your brush or comb out on the lawn, and maybe the birds will leave you alone since they are getting what they want. If they still come after you, you might have to wear one of your little coats or lightweight sweaters until nest building season is past.

    ReplyDelete
  18. Ouch, Stewey! Any suits of armor in your wardrobe?

    ReplyDelete