Duck, Duck, Screw the Gulls

I must return to the conversation of the birds. I really do hate the gulls, and they hate me. There is one particular seagull that is huge and fat because he picks through the garbage first. I am disappointed in myself because I really hope he chokes on the plastic bags he pulls out of the garbage cans. They all spread the garbage out on the sidewalks and he gets his fill and then the other tiny birds are allowed to eat. How tyrannical is that? Honestly. They also swoop down on tables at outdoor restaurants just as people are walking awayto get their fill before the waitstaff can clear the tables. They still screech at me no matter where I am or what I am doing, and yes, it is me specifically. They are wretched birds.

The ducks, however, are wonderful. I love my three ducks that come to my window more than any other ducks, but it's hard to tell which ducks are mine when they aren't outside my window. Is it normal for ducks to travel in threes? Because I always assume that when I see a group of three ducks somewhere near my flat that they are, in fact, my personal ducks. Even if they're not my ducks, they are still far better than the evil gulls. One of my new favorite things is to watch ducks float downstream. They get lazy and stop swimming and they float down the water and it looks so funny. I have been known to laugh out loud at the ducks in the botanical gardens. Perhaps this is why the ducks like me, but people think I am crazy.

There is the possibility that I only fear birds that have pointy beaks, tempers, and hate me. But let's look at the options here... If you are kind to me, I give you food; if you are mean to me, I hope you choke on plastic in the street. I think the ducks really have this program down.