Becca's Blog

Kingbird in the 'burbs.

On today's morning walk with the dogs my ears pricked up when I heard an unfamiliar call. My first assumption was that a neighborhood starling had learned a new call--this wasn't their typical wolf whistle, but it was on their turf. I looked around, and the bird was conveniently in full view at the top of an oak, in full sun.

The bird was nearly robin-size, pearly gray, with yellow coming up the sides from its belly; it has a dark eye and pale under its eye, and a shortish, dark bill. (Mind you, I didn't have binoculars and the bird was 25 feet up.) I started thinking about olive-sided flycatcher or something in the same family.

After I finished the dog walk I went back with binoculars, but the bird was gone. Based on the field marks, though, it was a Western kingbird--the first one I've seen in my neighborhood. I'm more used to seeing them in open fields in the Central Valley, or in the cow pastures at Point Reyes.

Doggy disinfection desired.

I'm tempted to slip a little hydrogen peroxide into the dogs' water bowl because of something Ethel did on our walk this morning. She disappeared into some bushes completely when my back was turned and didn't respond to calls or whistles. Really, I was standing right in front of these bushes looking, and I couldn't see her. When I was good and panicked about spending the day searching for a lost dog she emerged from the bushes--with poop, probably human, on her lips. So she just lost all off-leash privileges, and I dislike homeless people just a little bit more.