This morning, the sun cast a wave of light across my lawn, spotlighting two doves beneath the bird feeder.
What made today different? One dove pecked for breakfast in the freshly cut grass, while the other sat fluffed and still, as if incubating eggs.
We all know a fluffy bird is a happy bird.
My glee erupted like a giddy child and I watched them for as long as it took several Random Rab songs to play. 🎶
I reveled in pride. For years, I had worked to create this exact scene—birds who love visiting my yard and feel safe enough to relax.
That had never happened, to this extent—until now.
Visiting? Yes. Relaxing? Sure, in the trees. But nestling in the grass, fluffing for nearly an hour? Never.
And nestling in the grass without a care?
“Yes, my darlings! I’m so happy you’re here! Sound the trumpets! Twirl with glee!”
But also…
NO! Don’t do it! The feral cats will kill you!
The birds that visit my Northern California yard—sparrows, finches, and yes, doves*—never seem comfortable, despite feasting on tiny, highly nutritious, oil-rich Nyjer seeds**. They jerk left and right, here and there, in staccato timing, seemingly paranoid of possible attack.
They eye the bounty from a front-row perch, skeptical, but tempted. The risk must be worth it.
Pluck!
Check surroundings while extracting the seed from the husk and eating it.
Pluck!
Check surroundings while extracting the seed from the husk and eating it.
Pluck!
Check surroundings while extracting the seed from the husk and eating it.
Pluck!
Check surroundings while extracting the seed from the husk and eating it.
Their effort exhausts me.
But that’s the nature of being a bird. They are right to be paranoid.
Wild birds at my bird feeder
Feral cats prowl my yard. When I see them, I charge outside, clapping wildly and growling in my best guttural monster voice to scare them off. Yet, they return—because nature designed this whole interaction: Fluffy flying things must be killed. It’s a primal matter.
The cats also like to cross my yard for their prowling in the neighborhood. They saunter to our fence line and then scurry across. Now they are the ones paranoid—of me. It’s a sight to see! Sometimes, when I’m visiting my neighbor across the street, I’ll see the same scene play out…..saunter, saunter, saunter—la, de, da—not a care in the world, and then they touch an imaginary border and dart across my property only to saunter, saunter, saunter off again.
I do everything possible to protect “my” birds. I won’t answer the door without a shower and lip shine, but a cat in my yard? There I am, in my fluffy white robe, stomping across my front lawn for all to see, clapping and scream-growling: “GEEEEEEEEEEET OUT OF HERE!”
Most of the cats have learned to stay away (though new ones need to be trained now and then)—except one.
Menace Cat.
The neighbors adore her for her spryness and calico spots, but she’s a killer. Lest you think me dramatic, last year, while drinking my morning coffee, I spotted a blob of blood dripping from my white stone birdbath. Tiny down feathers lay like snow across the agapanthus leaves.
Once, an injured dove lingered for days near the pink rose bushes—visible to all things good (me) and evil (everything else). She seemed too comfortable. Her partner stayed nearby bobbing his head and hovering like a concerned spouse. I worried for her.
And then one morning, below the bird feeder in the middle of the lawn, I found enough feathers to fill a decorative pillow. I nearly threw up my Starbucks.
I understand that I’m luring birds into my yard—creating a false food source that doesn’t exist in nature. That means I have a responsibility to protect them from feral cats to the best of my ability.
Over the years, I’ve spent nearly $2,000 trying to keep the cats away. I’ve tried coyote urine (useless), spiky cat mats (effective but ugly even if they didn’t trap leaves and weeds), cayenne pepper (I bought the 5 lb. economy size. Not only is it not effective, it leaves an orange-red carpet that grows mold), various concoctions of sprays (some homemade, some not), and CatWatch stakes—the only truly effective solution.***
But I worry.
Does my unnatural constant supply of seeds hurt the birds more than it helps?
I don’t think so.
This I know:
- Birds only get 20 percent of their diet from feeders. They’ll survive, even if I’m late filling the feeder.
- Nature rules, no matter how much I intervene. Predators exist. So the thousands of birds I help outweigh the few the cats kill.
- My garden remains pesticide free and attracts hummingbirds, bees, and butterflies regularly—a healthy respite.
This I also know:
Birds bring me joy.
When the feeders are down for cleaning, sterilizing, and drying, my yard falls silent and still**. I live happier and fuller with the bird songs and their swooping about—so much enthusiasm, joy, and vitality! Without them, my yard feels dead.
The birds are my companions.
Each spring, after weeks of feeding, they grow less wary of me. As the season progresses, I can walk from my car into the house, 12 feet from the feeder without them flying away! They know me. I’m not a threat—I’m a benefactor.
I dote on them. Through my windows, I delight in watching them and dare not disturb them. I delay my chores while they feast. If the doves are present, I wait before stepping outside so I or the door lock clank! doesn’t startle them away. Whoosh! But If I come around the side of the house and tread softly and move slowly— watering plants or deadheading the flowers—sometimes they stay and we enjoy the garden together.
I think I’ve reached Snow White status.
When I fill the feeder, I whistle the first six notes of Ring Around the Rosie. By the fifth or sixth time, black, white, brown, yellow, and red fluffs dot the trees like Christmas ornaments. A minute after I step inside, they descend—tiny dive bombers racing to the banquet.
And I am happy.
XOXO,
Deborah
Important Notes:
- * My local wild bird store owner does not believe that doves eat Nyjer seeds. But they do. They often perch in the tray that hangs from the feeder to catch the seeds. In this setting, they could ONLY be eating Nyjer seeds.
- ** Bird feeders must be absolutely dry. Moisture causes the Nyjer seeds to mold. Birds are very particular when eating these seeds. If birds do not visit your feeder for a few days when they usually always do, it probably means the seeds are compromised. Discard them and refill the feeder with fresh seeds.
- *** This specific CatWatch brand emits an ultrasonic frequency that cats don’t like. The bursts are inaudible to us, but are very effective at repelling cats. CatWatch operates on a frequency only audible to cats and is inaudible to dogs, hedgehogs, guinea pigs, rabbits, and birds. Other brands I’ve researched emit a wider range in frequency and affect other animals and birds, even if they are marketed for cats. CatWatch is in the UK, but don’t let this deter you. THEY ARE ABSOLUTELY WORTH THE COST (and the only effective solution I’ve found). I purchased an inexpensive battery charger and use rechargeable 9V batteries—a one time cost that is easy, more affordable in the long run, and better for the environment; however, an electric version is available. This exact brand is available at the time of this writing in various places, including EBAY, but the costs are outrageous. You pay less, even with shipping, when ordering direct from the CatWatch company.
For more information on my favorite bird seed and bird feeder, see this post.