big bird update: the terror is over

After a week of scheming, plotting, stakeouts and setting ingenious traps (including a galunggong as bait, which in retrospect was a plan doomed from the start since it was like expecting a gourmand to choose tuyo after a diet of blue marlin), the bird finally fell.

In the end, it wasn’t the clever net that trapped him or the bells that scared him away. It was our enraged househelp Anna, who saw it and chased it with a bamboo pole without any qualms. She isn’t exactly what you would call a ray of sunshine to begin with and it was unfortunate for the bird that it was the first thing she was early in the morning. Despite its cleverness (it was, after all, able to figure out a way inside the net by removing the objects that weighed it down), a grumpy Anna with a stick was the most formidable opponent it probably ever had and will face in its life.

It kindda gives me the creeps. There’s something about the look in its eye that’s…fishy, for lack of a better word (no pun intended). It’s like it knows something we don’t. A mate which will cause havoc in its stead?

Total Koi body count: 10.

May they swim in peace.

the big bird

For the past few days, a huge bird has been terrorizing our small pond of koi. It’s weird to think of a heron in a middle-class subdivision miles away from rice paddies and fields but the eccentricities of rich people know no bounds and our neighbor has invested his money in a mini-aviary from which the killer bird hails from. So far, this escaped bird has eaten around 4 koi much to the dismay of my mom, who envisioned spending leisurely afternoons fish-watching to calm her nerves but who is now super stressed out trying to think of an entrapment operation on the predator which has made our tiny little pond its own personal restaurant.

As I type this, I can hear the bird outside flapping its wings. I am making as much noise as I can–shuffling around my room, switching the lights on and off, banging my door, exclaiming “OOH!” each time it flaps–so that my mom will wake up without me actually having to wake her up so I won’t feel guilty about depriving her of sleep but it’s clearly not working.

I already turned on the light outside to scare it off but the bird might just be able to see the fish more clearly so I turned it off again. I’ve already been downstairs but I can’t see the intruder clearly–it’s color black–and I’m hesitant to go outside because what will I do to it? Shoo it away with a stick, which I still have to look for? It’s resisted all attempts at capture and has proven its cleverness by evading the elaborate traps fashioned by my mom and the helpers–what makes me think that shaking my slipper at it will scare it away? It’s even bigger than my slipper!

I’m actually tempted to throw my slipper at it from my window but knowing my terrible aim, it will either end up in the gutter and clog the drains or get stuck on the branches of the tree. Instead, I’ve spent the past twenty minutes peering outside the window, trying to determine if it was caught in the trap or if it’s trapped inside the pond, thus giving it more time to scout for fish. If only the fish could make some noise, y’know, so I can tell if they’re being terrorized or if they’re safe. All I can hear is the sound of the water and the occasional flapping of wings.

Oooh what should I do?!?! I really want to go down but I don’t even know what kind of bird it is–what if it flies towards me? Birds don’t like me. During our finale dance in high school, a dove was released and of course it had to land on top of my head. Dealing with a teeny peaceful dove was bad enough–it felt like someone was pulling my hair–what more would a ferocious, carnivorous bird on my head feel like?! Eeks!

Mama, if you’re reading this and something happens to your fish, I’ll just buy you two new ones. Just as long as that bird doesn’t get to my Blackjack!

And oh–let’s buy a dog! Pero a small one lang ha.