Here chickadee-dee-dee... Here chickadee-dee-dee... Chicka-chicka-chickadee-dee-dee... Here chickadee-dee-dee...
Oh, hello there Mr. Chickadee. What a nice surprise! How very nice of you to visit.
Why yes, yes I did. You're absolutely right about that. I did call. I'm glad you got my message.
Now tell me, Mr...
You are a mister, right? You are a mister and not a missus? Yeah, that's what I thought. So tell me Mr. Chickadee, I've been meaning to ask you...
What's that Peepers? Stop bothering the birds, you say? Why, I'm not bothering them at all. How very rude of you to even insinuate that I might be bothering my good friend, Mr. Chickadee, here. By the way, have the two of you met?
Never mind her, Chicky. You don't mind if I call you Chicky, for short, do you? If you like, you can call me Sivvers.
Why do I call the peep, Peepers, you ask? Well I don't know. 'Cause it's her name, I guess. Never really thought of it before. Pardon me? Does she peep? Does Peepers peep? Ummm... NO. I've heard her squawk, though. Yeah, I think one could call that sound she sometimes makes a squawk. Loud, harsh, discordant, noisy... Almost like a cackle. Oh yeah, I've heard the peep squawk, for sure. Anyway...
Anyway, like I was saying, I've been meaning to ask you a question. I've been watching you flitting about the garden, this way and that, and I've noticed that even though you're a very good flier, you don't always fly. You seem to hop a lot. Hop like a bunny. You know, hop like a bunny as in rabbit as in the guy with the big ears and fluffy tail who hides eggs at Easter. Yeah, just like that.
I've seen you climbing, too. And might I add, you're a very good climber by the way. I watched you climb up that big ol' oak tree at the end of the driveway today and let me tell you, I've climbed that tree quite a few times, myself, and it's not an easy tree to climb. Gotta dig your claws right in and haul yourself up. Of course, there's far more of me to haul than there is of you so I guess that might be why you're so light on your paws...
Do you have paws there, Chicky? Do you call those feet of yours paws? Or would they be hands?
What am I saying? MOUSES! Of course they're not hands. Hands are at the ends of arms and your wings are your arms. Silly me.
But my point is, you climbed that oak tree like a pro. Like a professional climber, for sure. But why? Why-oh-why did you not just fly?
Thing is, I have some concerns. You met my peep, right? Well let me tell you something about that there peep. She's a peep. 'Nough said. MOUSES!
You need more of an explanation than that, huh? FINE. Let me put it this way, then. The peep is a peep which means she's human. Human beings have weird ways of doing things, you see. Human beings can't seem to let things be. As a cat, live and let live is my motto but peeps? Nope, peeps just don't seem capable of leaving anything alone.
Humans do all sorts of stuff that might harm a bird like you, you see. They'll spray chemicals on the lawn and in the garden. Yeah, could you believe it? Then when you go to munch on some seeds from said garden, those seeds will be all contaminated with all sorts of horrible stuff. Horrible poisons and things. Now if you're lucky, you'll just hork it up but some of those chemicals will kill you as quickly as they'll make a Chicky hork. MOUSES!
It's the humans who are also responsible for killing off a lot of the insects 'round here which is why, in case you were wondering, you've been so hungry as of late. Must be hard to feed a growing family with the food supply being so short. I have to tell you, I feel for you Chicky. I surely do, indeed.
Now actually, my peep doesn't spray the garden with anything at all so in that way, she's a pretty good peep. But other peeps? You can't trust 'em as far as you can throw 'em, my man, and judging by the length of your wings there, I don't think you could throw 'em at all. MOUSES!
Now I can't do anything 'bout the chemicals and the lack of food and stuff and hunger you've been feeling but warn you. Humans just don't listen, you see. Not sure if it's because they can't or because they won't although truth be told, I'm thinking the latter. Peeps don't like to hear stuff they don't wanna hear, you see. They have a tendency to ignore the truth. MOUSES!
But as for all the hopping and climbing, might I make a suggestion.
My peep may not spray the garden with poisons and things but almost as frightening as that is her tendency to come up behind you, scoop you up and kiss you all over. Well not all over, really. She does limit her kisses to the tops of heads, backs of necks, tummies and an occasional paw but still... It's really quite disgusting. You ever been scooped up and kissed in front of a nosey-neighbouring-cat who's just looking for some reason to mock you? I have and let me tell you, I have nightmares 'bout that to this very day.
Now I've never seen the peep scoop up a bird for kisses and cuddles but as she is human and therefore prone to doing crazy human things, I wouldn't put it past her at all. And if you, my friend, are hopping about and climbing trees within her reach... Well let's just say that that is one picture I would not wanna paint, far less be part of. MOUSES!
So might I suggest that you do a little more flying and a little less hopping so as to steer clear of the peep. To keep out of her reach and stuff. You know, to avoid any unnecessary kisses and cuddles and the like. A ten-minute cuddle with kisses from a peep is something you will never forget. Never forget in a bad way. In a very bad way, indeed. Believe me, I say this from personal experience. MOUSES!