A Sign of Spring

It snowed here last night.

Not that pansy snow we get in November. Naaah. This is that springtime snow. The kind that comes down like manna and then pools up in the street like gravy. It’s really dense – heavier than water. I was standing in the driveway drinking coffee and cursing this damn climate when I finally saw him.

I saw the first official robin of the year. A welcome sight. Better than the daffodils coming up along the neighbors house. We moved the gallery this winter and I am running behind on preparing paintings for this year’s shows. It’s been a long winter and I was looking forward to this sign of spring. Even though I was glad to see him again, he looked really ticked off. He was bouncing around in the yard and had a little snow on top of his head and on his tail feathers. He turned and looked at me before he shook the snow off. He looked exactly like Al Pacino would look if he were a robin in my neighbor’s yard.

“What the hell’re you lookin’ at?” he asked

“Just wanted to welcome you back.”

He bounced around some more – I supposed he was trying to detect a worm in the ground.

“Catch any worms today?”

“What do you care?”

“Just making conversation. You guys are carnivores, right?”

The robin bounced over toward me. “Uh, we’re omnivores – thank you.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that.”

“No, you just didn’t care.”

“Now hold on pal, I just didn’t know.”

“This’ll be my fifth year here in your yard.”

“And?”

“And you don’t even know what robins eat.”

“I always see you eating worms and sometimes grubs or some damn thing out of the ground.”

“Yeah, and we robins also eat seeds, berries, fruits . . .”

I sipped my coffee, “So?”

The robin kicked the ground. “Me and my old lady have made our nests in your yard for 5 years now and you don’t even realize we are more like you than that dumbass carnivorous cat of yours.”

“Bill? What does he have to do with anything?”

“He’s a vicious carnivore. Ate two of my kids last year. One the year before.”

“But he doesn’t even have his front claws.”

“Oh, and are you afraid of a shark with only half his teeth?”

“I see your point there.”

“Is that why he’s so vicious? You pulled his claws out?”

“Hey, it wasn’t me. My sister-in-law had him declawed before we got him. She neutered him too, but we don’t talk to him about that.”

The robin scowled and swallowed down something – I wasn’t sure what. “So that’s why he’s the way he is?”

I tossed the rest of my coffee out. It made a nice spray pattern on the slushy snow. Kind of like diarrhea across the yard.

“What do you mean?” I asked the robin

“We’ve seen him torturing the chipmunks from time to time.”

“Really?”

“Uh, yeah! He’ll hold them down with his paw, then pretend he doesn’t see them, then jumps on the poor bastards when they try to get away.”

“Oh! Okay. I’ve seen him do that. It’s pretty funny how he is suddenly surprised they are there.”

“Yeah. It’s just hilarious. The poor slob of a chipmunk is praying for dear life and you think your little kitty is just soooo cute.

“You should’ve seen what the dogs did to the chipmunk that got into the house.”

“It’s been all over the neighborhood for years.”

“Oh.”

The robin bounced up closer to me and gave me the “up-down stare”. I took a step back.

“Listen Pal,” the robin started “I am not putting up with any crap this year.” He spit something onto the patch of grass pushing through the snow. “Not this year.”

“What do you mean?” I asked the robin as I stepped back toward the car.

“I see you have a new Volvo there.”

I slid some of the snow off the windshield. “Isn’t she a beauty? The van’s transmission died and we just got this the other day.”

“It won’t look the same when I get through with it.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked

The robin bounced closer to me and the Volvo. “I won’t be putting up with that damn cat around my family this year – or I’m going to make your Volvo my personal toilet – all summer.”

“What do you want me to do?” I asked the robin.

The robin stood right next to the tire, leaned forward with as menacing a look a robin can muster and began to say something just as Bill silently attacked from under the Volvo and did an Olympic-style somersault with the ambushed robin. Bill then spun him around in the snow and shredded him with his back claws.

“What? I can’t hear you Mr. Robin.” I leaned down and cupped my ear as Bill sank his teeth into the bird’s neck. “What’s that? I can’t hear you – what were you saying? What?”

I turned to go into the house after hearing the bird’s neck snap.

“Thanks, Boss.” murmured Bill as he walked by the porch with the bird in his mouth.

Before I went into the house I saw the robin’s widow with her new beau on top of the garage.

“Thank you” she sang.

Her new husband nodded to me.

Bill sat the dead robin in the driveway and thumped his chest twice with his paw before giving me a sideways “peace” sign.

I nodded to Bill. “Don’t forget the cannoli in the back seat.”

Then I stepped into the kitchen from the driveway for that second cup of coffee.

Ahhh. Springtime.

-Addendum: A picture of Bill and the Volvo

JohnStillmunks.com