The Case Of The Kamikaze Alarm Clock

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Turdus migratorius – appropriate name, no?


Saturday morning.  Around 8 AM.  I am lying in the postdawn greyness of a Pacific Northwest morning, probably dreaming about something unseemly like candy cane forests, gumdrop castles and pink cupcakes, when the early hush of the day is shattered by the frenzied thumping and scritching of something against our bedroom window.  Not again, I moan to myself and try to immerse my mind back in the lovely sugary fantasies still swimming at the edge of my consciousness.  Thump thump scritch whump.  Oh what the…..  It’s only 8 AM!  Why?  Not again!  It’s my kamikaze alarm clock set to wake me at the most inopportune times, and there’s no snooze on this sucker.  In fact, I won’t even be able to reach it.  Well, nothing left to do now except get my ass up.

The culprit waits for me on the back fence, haughtily eyeing me with one black beady orbit, head cocked at an angle.  His cheery red breast belies the nightmare black heart beneath and though he flees when I shout at him, I know his sinister activities will continue momentarily.  Does he have it out for us specifically? What is it he loves about our large plate glass living room windows, or our smaller bedroom windows?  Is the glare of sunlight across their cloudy panes (yes, I remember telling you I was a terrible housekeeper) simply irresistible?  Does it look like a shining mirrored target just begging for a divebombing?  Perhaps he is merely inbred.  Slow and unaccustomed to things standing in his way, yet persistent in believing that after one hit, they will magically disappear.  My personal favorite theory is that he has been bartering with our dogs for the early weekend morning wake up call.  Pssssst…..  Yeah you.  Listen, we’ll dig you a nice hole filled with all the worms you want if you’ll wake our people up early every Saturday to feed us!  Deal?  Deal. 

Whatever the case, he has been terrorizing our living room windows, and our psyches for the past week.  Echoes of thumping, scrabbly scritching and feathery flapping can be heard on a consistent basis throughout the house.  We tried closing the blinds, but that accomplished nothing.  I know the dogs are snickering every time I run outside to shoo him away.  Man, look at mama run!  But I have a sneaky feeling that my kamikaze alarm clock will continue to operate until his warranty is up.  And they say no one makes quality products anymore.


3 thoughts on “The Case Of The Kamikaze Alarm Clock

  1. We had a woodpecker that was our alarm clock few years ago. Boy I wanted to strangle the thing. But when you went outside, the look on the bird face made you just smile instead of angry, so you go inside, try to curl up in bed, then realize why you went out in the first place… sigh… Maybe go to bed earlier to try compensate the lost hours?

  2. I think your puppies have been talking to my cat. Oh no, perhaps all of nature is in cahoots against us! The cat has been running across us at 4 am every morning. She’ll take a running leap onto the bed, run across hubby and I, using me as a springboard she’ll leap for the floor, then do it all over again until I throw her out and shut the bedroom door.

  3. Mother Nature has been upset a bit all of it seems….our cats sleep in cages at night, and lately they have been waking us up at 4:00 AM DAILY……tail for sail cheap…..

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