Sandra is still up in the branches keeping watch. Carl appeared, fluffed up and very agitated. Jerry is still in the northwest corner, flapping and hopping.
And my son asks, “Is that Tom Hiddleston?”
He’d seen a squirrel taunting Carl on the fence. It must be genetic, because now we have named the squirrel Tom Hiddleston because…reasons, okay?
ANYWAY. My son has sworn his flashlight to the Jerry Rescue Operation, which will proceed once the light fails enough that reconnaissance can be done.
(I am surprised to see a squirrel out this late but the way things are going…)
So, as soon as dusk gets thick enough I will be looking for a possibly wounded, flightless crow. In the dark. And also attempting to verify the fence-corpse situation.
Also, several small birds—chickadees? Maybe? I’m no ornithologist?—are VERY INTERESTED in the northeast corner. I am unsure if they are cheering Jerry on or just interested in the possible fence-corpse?
BUT! My son reports that he has heard the music for the past few evenings, possibly coming from the elementary school. So the hallucinatory musical soundtrack of the Jerry Watch Situation 2021 has now been explained.
Nothing can explain the rest of this bullshit, especially the fence-corpse (which may or may not have been Jerry), but at least we’ve got the music sorted.
I was going to attempt to lure Carl and Sandra away with oyster crackers but my daughter argued against that plan because Carl is so deeply worried about Jerry.
Now we’re just waiting for it to get dark enough for the rescue operation. I just checked the weather app. Sunset isn’t until 8:58PST.
Carl is perched in the dogwood.
The dogwood is in the northeast corner. It is, along with the possibly-dead oak sapling, the closest tree to the Jerry Situation, as well as the possible fence-corpse.
Tom Hiddleston has disappeared (squirrels tend to go to bed early) and there is no sign of Sandra. The humans in the house are preparing for the mission in their own ways.
ANYWAY, the oyster cracker plan was nixed because my daughter doesn’t want to be responsible for whatever injuries may occur. Allies can be difficult. Eisenhower never had to deal with this shit.
Today has been exciting. I’m worn out but I can’t rest until Jerry is in a nice raccoon-proof box and I have verified the fence-corpse or lack of it.
I can hear Carl yelling even from my office.
So, once it gets dark enough that Carl and Sandra can’t see us, my son will hold the flashlight, I will take point with the broom, and my daughter will hang back ready to cover our retreat.
Objective 1 is to locate Jerry. Objective 2 is to verify the fence-corpse or lack of it. Both objectives lie in the northwest corner of the yard and can ideally be reached in the same trip.
The dogs are both sacked out, exhausted. I need to go downstairs and get the Jerry box prepped.
What we’ll do if Jerry doesn’t want to stay in the box…Jesus. One problem at a time.
All right. We have found a Jerry box.
There was discussion of whether Jerry needed a studio or a condo.
We have decided on a Jerry condo (a largish Amazon box that came back from the coast bearing seedlings last weekend) because it needs room for: Towel, water source, food, and (hopefully) Jerry the Crow.
Right now the biggest concern is that Jerry might not want his new condo.
It fact, the planners have advanced the idea that Jerry might be a bit of an asshole about this whole deal.
If Jerry’s spend the entire evening in the corner of the yard near a fence-corpse, Jerry might in fact be a bit peeved. Or if Jerry was stuffed in the fence and only recently emerged, he can’t be in a very good mood.
Either way, whether he was the corpse or near it, Jerry might be in what we call a bit of a mood.
I should have bought hockey gear. But how in the hell could I have known THIS would happen?
Any eye protection I wear is going to cut down on my Jerry- and corpse-spotting ability, despite the torches both kids will be carrying.
This is a quandary, but I’m fully committed to this operation and have to accept the chance of casualties.
As long as the kids stay well back, and Jerry or the corpse doesn’t go for them, we might conceivably get through Jerry Watch Situation 2021 without any injuries. And in the morning I can approach the Question of Jerry.
It’s very quiet. The birds are roosting. It might be dark enough. I’m going to go check.
I slipped out the back door with no backup—JUST TO LOOK, I SWEAR!
…this is why heroes end up dead, naturally.
Anyway, Sandra is still on Jerry duty. She’s in the cedars. Sunset approaches. Sandra gave a few tired croaks, determined to do her duty.
I retreated because I am NOT a hero.
I am currently pondering the question of Jerry Gloves. Gardening gloves might be too thin to protect me, but the fence-mending gloves mean I won’t have the necessary delicate control and might end up hurting Jerry.
All this assumes I’ll be able to find Jerry the crow IN THE DARK, and then shove him into his well-supplied condo, and convince him to STAY THERE.
My daughter is unconvinced the condo is raccoon-proof
I have so much to worry about right now, I can’t even consider the raccoons.
Will Jerry be able to get to oyster crackers or sunflower seeds if we put them in a little dish? I don’t want to be rude but I’m not sure Jerry really knows how to handle crockery?
(I am still doubting my sanity on a minute to minute basis but what the hell, I work in publishing and have raised two kids, I might as well lean into this bullshit too.)
I am so worried about whether or not Jerry might be an asshole about his new condo I have almost forgotten the fence-corpse, but then the fence-corpse idea comes back and I get anxious.
Someone has kindly pointed out that crows are tool-using birds so as much of an asshole as Jerry is likely to be, he’ll probably handle a bowl with facility.
This is absurdly comforting. I’m off to find some condo crockery for an asshole crow.
ALL RIGHT. Operation Get Jerry Into His Asshole Condo And Verify The Fence-Corpse has undergone final planning.
It is dusk. True sundown was just a minute or so ago. My daughter snuck a small bowl of oyster crackers and a small dish of water out onto the deck, partly to have them handy and partly to gauge the Sandra situation.
Sandra sent poor worried Carl to bed and was in the cedars but was last seen flying northward, possibly to roost. It’s dead silent except for traffic.
I will be taking point. Behind me will be my son with a torch and an extra towel. Safety equipment has been decided on and will undergo final checks in a bit.
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