Cursed, Wretched Blue Jays!

I love blue jays, I really do. Honest! When I worked at the bird store I did my best to sway the most avid blue jay hater, but today I cannot be their fan. It's not because of their ability to locate and eat eggs and nestlings--so many bird species do that anyway, blue jays are just the most flamboyant about it.

No, today they are inadvertently setting off my cockatiel alarm. Blue jays have always set Kabuki off to warn the household of their presence. I don't know what it is about their calls, but whether our beloved bird hears them on tv, plush toy or right outside, they cause a rash of loud cockatiel alert calls. Today, the blue jays have brought a young bird to the feeder to teach it to feed. Normally, I enjoy watching young jays figure out how to eat on their own from the suet log, but the young jay's urgent begging cries are causing Kabuki to deliver alerts that are loud, fast and hard on the ear drums. Oh, my ears. Ah, this is the reason why birds don't make good pets.

"I'm a helper!"

Yes, my little Eraserhead bird, you are. Now, for the love of pete, please shush!