The lawn in front of my house is not in the best of shape. It's mostly weeds, with a select patch of grass. It is also slightly balding. But this was not always the case. It used to be lush. Lush with dandelions, clover, crabgrass, and stuff that resembled grass but wasn't. Well, the owner didn't want that, so she had the maintenance guy put down some weed killer/fertilizer. Now if there's anything I've learned from being a landscaper, it's that it's either one or the other. And, unfortunately for our lawn, it did more killing than fertilizing. But, even after our front yard was made a barren wasteland (or so it seemed), it has been home to many animals.
Most notably of these is a flock of sparrows. I see them almost everyday, pecking at the grass eating something (I hope for their sake it's not the killer/fertilizer pellets), but I really don't know. And we've had a family of quail, as well as a pair of ducks live in our yard. So, I suppose you might say we run a bird sanctuary. And, we even had a rehabilitation case. We named him Bill.
Bill had a bum wing. So he usually didn't stray too far from the porch. I'd throw him sunflower seeds, rice, and random birdish food items, and he seemed pretty appreciative as he gimped around the yard. But quite often I would be inside, typing away on the computer, or reading a book and I left the door open. Well, it didn't take too long for Bill to decide he liked it better inside the house. I would sit there, my computer on my lap, and then, out of the corner of my eye I'd see this little brown smudge hopping on the carpet. It was Bill.
This went on for some time. Almost everyday Bill would come on by, eating random stuff off of the carpet and then I'd bid him adieu. Then, came that fateful Saturday. I left the house to go hang out with some friends, and I left the door open, thinking it would do little harm as my brother and other room mate were home. Later on, as I was in the middle of something cool I got a phone call from my good friend and neighbor. It was a somewhat unexpected call, but so was the news. He said my kitchen was full of birds, and that they were hopping around and leaving little bird presents wherever they went. Before responding, I knew in my gut it was Bill. Bill had taken advantage of my good nature. How could you Bill? You look all gimpy and innocent, and then when I throw you a bone you ransack my house with your bird friends. Disappointed doesn't describe it. I felt betrayed.
My door is now closed.
Every wednesday morning, garbage collectors come by my house. I assume they come to collect garbage. Seems only logical. 
I live my own dreams.
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