My irrational fear of birds...

I suppose it began when I was very young, no more than 4 years old.  My Grandpa lived out in the country and his neighbors had chickens that for one reason or the other, preferred to roost in Grandpa’s back yard.  My Dad, being the wonderful father that he is, decided it would be funny to set me out in the back yard by myself one day…to play with the chickens.  Now, at this age, I was pretty open to anything thrown at me, devoid of any preconceived notions about much of anything, but I thought animals were supposed to be my friends.  Cute, fluffy, loveable, cuddly beings sent to Earth to be my friends.

 I couldn’t have been more wrong.  I can’t remember what initiated the event, but what I do remember is the sheer terror that ran through my veins as this giant herd of chickens started clucking and cawing and chasing me down.  They had morphed into giant, fanged, hateful, creatures whose bloodlust could only be cured with the taste of my flesh.

 

So here I was, running frantically in the back yard, trying to escape these feathered predators…the backdoor only a few steps away…my redemption!  Only…my kind, loving, wonderful, father…who had been watching this whole event while laughing…locked the door.  Realizing I was on my own, and the chickens were still after me, I continued running around the back yard.  I’m not sure I had a plan at all.  I just wanted to stay alive and away from these feathery monsters.  At some point in time, I remember making a promise to myself that I would never again touch a chicken unless it was in chicken nugget form and dipped in honey mustard sauce. So I ran....

and I ran...

...and I ran....

Near the point of exhaustion, I was saved by my cousin Chance, who was kind enough to scoop me up and take me into his family’s trailer which was located in Grandpa’s side yard.  My Aunt Cindy consoled me and sat me down in front of the TV to watch Woody the Woodpecker and Milo and Otis until it was time for me to go home.

To this day I am terrified of chickens.  I am even going to expand that and say that in general, I am terrified of all birds no matter how big or small. More recently, I was very nearly attacked by a duck.  Very few people are aware, but ducks have teeth, sharp teeth and hundreds of them.  I know this because I saw them.  Up close.  We have a family of ducks at our apartment.  They usually just wander around the complex and drive my dog crazy.  I saw one walking around my car in the parking lot and decided that I could feed her bread from a safe distance so long as they stayed within bread throwing distance.  So I stood on my porch quite pleased with myself because of how brave I was being.

And then it happened, she started to approach me. I tried to throw the bread further away from myself to get her to back off, but in my state of panic some of the bread was landing near my feet.  She didn’t want the bread in the parking lot, she wanted the bread by my feet as if it was somehow superior to the bread in the parking lot.  It was then that I saw that the duck had shape shifted into an evil devil duck, mouth laced with thousands of jagged teeth stained with the blood of the last human kind enough to share bread with her, and her evil beady eyes trained on me and the bag of bread.  It appeared as though she was going to invite herself into my apartment.  I knew it was either going to be me, or the bread,  and that was a total no brainer.  I threw the remainder of the bread on the porch to distract her, turned and ran into the apartment bolting the door behind me. 

 My roommate looked at me from the kitchen as if he might have to get his gun to protect me from a mugger or whoever the evil menace was chasing me.  When I explained that there was a killer duck on the loose his look of concern changed to one of disbelief, like he might actually have to have me taken away in a straight jacket.  He grabbed a second loaf of bread and went outside against my advisement, to feed the ducks.  I watched him from the safety of the living room, as he fed the ducks... from his hand...

I have come to the conclusion that birds can smell fear, and once that fear is detected, they take that opportunity to attack.  If anyone knows of any type of fear deodorant please advise, as I believe that would be my only hope to overcome my irrational fear of birds.