I think I’ve mentioned on several occasions about my deathly fear of all things bird. Birds from a distance are fine and dandy, but put me up close and personal with a wild bird and look the heck out, Oprah! It all started for me back when I was 4 years old visiting my grandparents farm. I loved animals back in those days and I had no problem going up to one and petting it. That is until the wild turkey incident. This schizophrenic turkey that was bigger than I was decided it would be a great idea to attack the 4-year-old me. He knocked me to the ground, sat on top of me and started pecking and flapping his wings… and I done near lost it. When I was finally able to free myself I was gone. If they were holding Olympic Track events in the same vicinity, I’d have won the 800-yard dash at the age of 4 (is there such a competition… I don’t really care… pretend there is). Ever since then I haven’t cared for birds… and somehow every birdy on the planet knows this about me, so the plan is to torture Whitney… that’s third on their list right below fly South for the winter and poop on anything that moves.
My car is the only one in the neighborhood decorated with bird doo. I don’t mean one or 2 splotches… I mean the whole dagnabbed car. It doesn’t matter how many times I wash the sucker… 10 minutes later… voila. I’ve already blogged about the owl that lived in my window well and freaked me the heck out every time I saw it. I’ve had baby robins living in my window well with a psychotic mother who tried to lay a nest in my hair every time I walked past it. Magpies hate me… that one falcon that dive bombed me because he could hated me. It’s like Whitney versus the BIRDS… ALL of them!
This fact is what made what happened to me this afternoon even more hilarious… yet pretty dagnabbed predictable. I was driving back from my lunch hour walk when I was suddenly amidst a gaggle of chickens and hens and roosters and any manner of feathered species crossing the road and jumping around like their heads done about to be cut off. No joking around! Of course I freaked out, slammed on my brakes and then tried not to hyperventilate whilst I waited for them to make their way across the street. So, I’m in my car sitting in the middle of the road, parked… not moving at all when all of a sudden this huge brown chicken up and flies right into my dagnabbed windshield. Thank all that be holy the windshield was there because my hair was looking mighty nesty… I sat in my car trying to reassure them chickens that I was not a representative from the local Kentucky Fried Chicken… right after I assured them that I was indeed a vegetarian-vore. Your people are safe with me, ye mighty chickens!
So, why did the chicken cross the road? Obvious answer… because Whitney’s nesty hair lived on the other side.
Question of the Day: Do you have an irrational fear of any particular animal(s)?