How many babies is that bird going to have?
As regular Trog readers are aware, we’ve got a bird living in our Christmas wreath. And that bird has had twins. And not just twins – another set of twins. And not just another set – this is the third pair this year.
Okay, you can’t see the other baby bird because Mom’s sitting on him, but take my word for it: that’s the third set of babies this mourning dove has had this Summer. All while living in my now-thoroughly-browned Christmas wreath.
Previously, I used this as an excuse for my own laziness. We’re not rednecks, I reasoned: we’re nature lovers!
Well it turns out: we may not be rednecks, but we’re housing one. A feathered one. Living in a run-down wreath, in an aging nest, spending her days on what passes for a couch, squeezing out kid after kid after kid…I dunno, does that make her a redneck? Or if not, then at least the bird version of the Duggar family?
I’m not running some damned cathouse here, bird! You’re gonna go slutwalking around the neighborhood like this, you better find yourself some other wreath to live in!
Oh, wait, according to Wikipedia, mourning doves form permanent mating pairs. Huh. Okay, so…um…just pretend I didn’t call her a slut just now. It also says both Mom and Dad help out with building the nest and raising the kids. Again: huh. Far as I can tell, there’s only been one grownup bird here. But then, all those little gray birds look alike to me, so what do I know?
It also says that a pair of doves can hatch up to six pairs of young per season. Dang. And it was actually controversial when Wisconsin enacted a mourning dove hunting season a few years ago.
Next year, we’re hanging two wreathes. See how many we get then. Don’t worry: I’ll invite you to the barbeque.
Previously:
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