My magpies are gone! I haven’t seen them all summer. For years a noisy pair of large birds (I called them Heckle and Jeckle after the cartoon characters.) harassed neighborhood cats during the warmer months of the year. They were menaces — squawked continuously, dive bombed any feline caught out in the open, or squirrel who ventured onto electric lines or utility cables.
One unfortunate old squirrel clung precariously to the line, flapping his tail over the side, back and forth, this way and that, trying to keep his balance as he fled and dodged black and white flapping wings and pecking beaks. He was then knocked completely off the wire, fell to the ground with a loud thump, lay still for a moment, then ran off with a magpie diving furiously after.
I felt sorry for my little furry friends until a couple of years ago. During the winter when the branches were bare, I noticed a big and messy magpie nest in the neighbor’s lilac bush right beside my grape arbor. Like a heap of trash caught in the crotch of a tree after a flood — it was easy to spot. They use them over and over again, year after year.
As spring progressed the mother and father birds returned, got busy, made repairs and finally the female settled in for the long stretch as she waited for her eggs to hatch.
I never checked to see but assumed there were babies because my tabbies and calicos lurked about under the bushes in the neighbor’s yard, eyeing the nest. Like small tigers they jumped onto the roof of the garage, crept down the slope to the lilac bush and snuck along the branches toward the nest. The father bird would squawk and fly angrily at the cats — the mother would join the chorus. Cats are very patient, they’d wait. Babies have to leave the nest eventually and fledgling chicks learning to fly often hop about the ground.
Both cats and squirrels probably deserved whatever the birds dished out because I’ve seen squirrels raid bird nests. A fat fellow will make himself comfortable beside a nest, pick up eggs one at a time, roll them over and over, then drop them to the ground while smaller birds, robins, sparrows or finches, flutter and fuss helplessly nearby. Magpies are big enough to effectively implement their declaration of war.
This year I did not see or hear my birds all summer. I wonder if they succumbed to bird flu, West Nile virus, old age, a neighbor kids B.B. gun or one of my cats got them. My cross-eyed siamese is an amazing hunter — she has bagged squirrels and pheasants so a magpie although difficult would probably not be impossible for her.
I never thought I’d say this but I miss that backyard ruckus.
Come to my yard, I must have fifty of them. I was so excited because they were here briefly in the spring, then disappeared for most of the summer. Then the weather turned colder, and bingo, here they are again, squawking and carrying on. Good thing the garden is all sewed up and most of the berries have been picked. But I’ll see if any of them answer to Heckle or Jeckle, just for you. Bonnie