If you look closely at this photo of my deserty backyard, you can see about twenty mourning doves eating dog food. Dry dog food, Pedigree brand, small bites for little dogs. Doves are crazy about dog food. I toss them a handful every morning while I’m drinking my coffee. I try and do it before Buck gets up because the racket made by dozens of mourning doves gets on his nerves first thing in the morning.
The doves here are nuts. If we leave a door open, one or two inevitably walk right into the house. They walk, not fly, into our house and start looking around like they’re thinking of buying the place. When you find them and chase them out, they walk out with a disgruntled look on their face. They walk very slowly out the same door they came in.
We can’t have a bird feeder here in El Paso. We tried it once. We filled a large bird feeder with seed and hung it from a tree. Within minutes, about 700 mourning doves descended on our backyard and we had to run into the house to get away from them. The noise they made was deafening. Buck said, “Don’t ever do that again.” I told him, “Ugh. Don’t worry, I won’t.”
But I do enjoy their company in the morning while I’m coffeeing up. Except for the slapping part. Yes ,slapping. That’s how they fight: they slap each other like they’re in a Three Stooges bit. It’s unsettling and I don’t like it. Last week, two of them got into a terrible slapping fight way up in a pine tree. It was violent and awful, I had go over and shake the tree just to make them stop.
Mourning doves build the worst nests in the world. They place four or five sticks on a tree branch then lay their eggs on top. The eggs fall and break on my patio, and I have to hose them off before the dogs run over and eat them. It’s gross as hell.
Last year a mourning dove left one of its babies in our courtyard. I had to worry over that thing for weeks until it was big enough to fly away. I hated that responsibility, and I’m too kind-hearted to ignore it. So I had to constantly check on this baby dove every few hours for weeks on end. It eventually flew away but it seemed to have taken forever. And the flying practice involved was unbelievable. He kept flying into my chair and I had to yell at him.
I know more about doves than I want to know. They’re okay, but if they all flew over to Mexico and I never saw them again I wouldn’t be upset.
I dunno, but I needed this post. It was funnier than hell. Maybe it was the part about them walking in like they were buying the place, or the slapping part, or yelling at the baby dove when he flew into your chair. Either way, I needed a good laugh. Thank you!
@ Little Miss – Thank Gawd I made at least someone laugh today.
Awww, ya big sap – looking out for the baby dove. I think that is one of the reasons I like you so much!
Thanks, Teeni, I like you too. But I really didn’t enjoy the baby dove. Getting up every morning and checking to make sure he was still alive was very nerve-wracking.
Hahaha, this was a such a matter-of-fact neutral/slightly dis-enchanted view towards doves; my favourite was picturing them walking out of YOUR house in a disgruntled manner, haha
You made me laugh too, thanks Wendy
I guess mourning doves in El Paso are a lot more entertaining than the ones here in New Hampshire. Or maybe, as with most species, especially humans, the larger groups they live in the dopier they act! We only see them in groups of 5-10. I think we might like to see some of that slapping action out our back windows! I’m sure Oliver would find that fun to watch. If your doves are like the 3 Stooges, then ours are like Laurel and Hardy.
I sympathize with Buck’s distaste for birdbrained cacophony, especially in the morning. Bluejays are like #2 on my top ten list of Awful Sounds To Be Awakened By.
Wendy,
You.are.hilarious.
@ Romi – I don’t like to think of any animals as “stupid” per se, but doves are seriously insane in the membrane.
@ David – No, the slapping is so unsettling, you’d hate it! It’s like watching a street fight or something. Not that I’ve ever watched a street fight, but you get the idea. And Oliver wouldn’t tolerate it, he’d have to jump in the middle and end it. I actually miss bluejays, those German Shepherds of the sky. And chickadees. I really miss chickadees.
@ Brian – Hi Brian! And thanks.
hahaha… I can almost envision them going back to their lousy nests and talking bad about you.
Those broken eggs might be more than they appear:
Mamma Bird: If you don’t get me a room in the big house, I’m throwing your shit out.
Pappa bird: WAIT… that was Jr.!
I saw that picture and all I could think about was the massive bird shit they left behind, yikes!!!
your yarns are enjoyable and chuckle-making.