We have a blue jay who has trained me to bring him food. He shows up in the morning for breakfast and again in the afternoon for tea.
This might not be so unusual, except we live in the inner city area of Dallas. The blue jays have adapted and permit us to live here.
Each morning, the second I flip on the coffee pot, he chirps until I go out and put seed in the feeder. We are not supposed to feed the birds, sayeth the homeowner association. I rationalize the birds make less of a mess than the two hundred pound dogs that live here. My neighbor and I worked out a “don’t ask, don’t tell arrangement.”
The blue jay is the self-appointed leader and determines the pecking order of the other diners.
After he finishes eating, the cardinals appear. The house sparrows are not intimidated by the cardinal and swoop in formation for their place at the table.
The cardinal stands his ground and fights off the sparrows. His mate hovers on the ground waiting for him to finish. Seed parity is for the birds and the males rule. After he has eaten, she gets the leftovers.
The morning dove ignores the entire pack and coos as she paces on the ground picking up bits and pieces of seeds. She reminds me of Aunt Pittypat in Gone with the Wind.
Ted Cruz, the resident squirrel, does not care for the new variety of seeds and is absent for the most part. Perhaps his alter ego in congress will do the same.
The blue jay is the leader of our feathered kingdom. He sounds the alarm when the feeder reaches an unacceptable level. The other day when I returned from errands, I heard him squawk as I got out of the car. He was waiting for me on the patio beside his empty dish.
The blue jay knows how to get results—–fast. Maybe we should send him to congress.