Yesterday evening as I sat on the back porch, watching Jason try to blind/maim/burn himself with a power drill and a treated wooden planter, I noticed a little tiny bird sitting near the ground in the branches of the Carolina Jasmine I have growing on the fence.
I went to get a closer look. That's when I noticed Mamma Mockingbird on the fence post. I couldn't quite hear her over the power drill, but I know that mockingbirds are vicious little snots about their babies. So I backed off. I figured she was waiting until the humans cleared out to rescue her fledgling.
Later that evening, I went out to check on the baby, as I was worried about him. There is a lot of wildlife roaming through my back yard, especially at night. And for my concern, I got dive bombed by both Mamma and Pappa Mockingbird. I tried to explain to them that I was just as worried about their baby as they were, but they weren't having it. And I was having Hitchcockian bird flashbacks and had no desire to be all pecked up like Tippi, so I went back in.
This morning, I went to check again. See paragraph above.
This afternoon, after Jason and I celebrated Confederate Remembrance Day by having lunch at Atlanta Bread Company. I went to check again. Baby bird was flying around with his Momma. Safe and happy.
But she still threatened to dive bomb me.
I may let the cats out.