The Ending of the Tail(s)

If you haven't read about the wrens in our house, go here first. Don't forget to come back.

It was somewhat annoying, yes, but also kind of cute to have two little birds poking about, exploring, and really just hanging out with us for a few days. If they wore little underpants or diapers, I would have been totally okay with it for a while longer.

The first wren that came in was extremely curious about everything. Sometimes he would just sit and watch what you were doing until you shooed him away or he decided, "Bored now." He was into every little nook he could find, having a ball just exploring a people house. It's like Disneyland for wrens, but with an all-you-can-eat ladybug buffet. (We've had ladybugs that apparently aren't technically ladybugs ever since moving here, and so do lots of other folks. You just try to ignore them and sweep up the dead ones.) One time the wren sat on the end of the kitchen counter, watching my daughter making lacto-fermented sauerkraut. He popped up from behind my son's desk and land on the keyboard. His favorite ride was getting between a closed curtain and the window, and climbing up the curtain to pop out the top.

After our wren friend had been around for many, many days, getting comfortable with us, and getting chubby from ladybugs, he brought in a friend. The new one was not so curious, not so poking about, and very skittish. The pair was then named Jack and Jill, on the assumption that the first was male and the second female. Were we right? Who knows? We figured he thought he'd hit pay dirt on a place to nest and he was showing his lady what he'd found. She seemed more frightened than impressed.

Jill didn't last long. We found her the next morning, on the floor in the living room, right next to my husband's recliner. We think maybe she was under it when he sat down and she got crushed when the chair moved. She wasn't mangled, but apparently she was injured enough to end it.

We were a little sad. Sure, we knew we really needed to get the birds out of the house and were trying to figure out how to do it. We'd given up on shooing them out a window, because obviously they had another way in, and were always back in short order. But, still, it was sad.

After Jill was gone, Jack seemed to be even more active, more bold. And he got very fat, even obese, if that's possible for a wren. He was gorging himself on the ladybugs, and he looked about twice as big as when he'd first come. I found him in the basement on Friday evening, not moving very much, and he let me get close enough that I could almost touch him before he even seemed to notice. I wonder if it's possible for birds to eat themselves to death, because my daughter found him dead soon after that, still in the basement, just laying in the middle of the floor.

So, Jack's gone, Jill's gone, and we still have no idea how they got in. I'd gotten used to Jack, even talked to him and played a bit. It was a little bright spot to have him excitedly exploring what is just everyday stuff to us. I miss him -- a bit.

But, sooner or later, I'm quite certain that another bird will find the way in, and think he's going to Disneyland.