Today while I was writing, Ziva, my twelve-year-old standard poodle, slept on her dog bed in my office. She doesn’t take my writing seriously. She takes a nap. And when she is bored with napping, she will get up and jab my right elbow with her nose. This means she wants a walk, because when we return she knows she will get a treat. She’s very good with cause and effect. If I ignore her first jab, she will jab again and again, until I say, “Okay, just let me finish this sentence.” It’s difficult to type when my elbow is suddenly tossed into the air by Ziva’s snout. But, today we walked before I started writing, so she was content to sleep instead of interrupting my stuttering flow of creative whatever.

Today’s big distraction took place outside my office window. Nuthatches, chickadees, house finches, a downy woodpecker, and a squirrel showed up at the bird feeder that hangs in the pine tree. It was a comic opera of dance, birdsongs, and slapstick.

The nuthatches and chickadees were happy to take turns at the feeder, but when a pair of house finches arrived, the other birds backed off and lit upon nearby branches in the pine tree. The house finches parked themselves on the feeder and ate, and ate. House finches are about the same size as the nuthatches and chickadees, but they obviously have an unsavory reputation in their small-bird community.

Occasionally, a chickadee attempted to fly in and snitch a seed, but the finches refused to yield. The chickadee, chickening out at the last second, would furiously flap its wings, nearly come to a screeching halt, then hover a moment before veering off to the left or right, returning to a branch in the tree. One chickadee flew up to the feeder, and one of the house finches turned its head, making a motion like a dog barking to defend its dish of food. The chickadee made a hasty retreat.

For the most part, the nuthatches made do with eating insects they found on the bark of the pine tree. But occasionally, one of them, craving a tasty sunflower seed, bravely approached the feeder. The house finches weren’t intimidated by them either.

During all this comedic drama, a squirrel arrived. His fluffed-out, bad-ass, tail-twitching demeanor made all the birds, including the house finches, seek higher branches. I chuckled because my bird feeder is squirrel proof. Many squirrels have tried, and all have failed. In a scene of choreographed comedic buffoonery, I watched the squirrel walk back and forth on the branch, eyeing the feeder. Next, he climbed on top of the feeder and stretched a paw downward toward the opening filled with sunflower seeds. Maybe, I thought, this one will figure out how to nab a seed from the squirrel-proof feeder. But no. He was only providing that moment in a story when we think a character will get what she wants, which made the next moment funnier because the squirrel fell off the feeder and onto the ground. My laughter startled Ziva, who lifted her head. The birds, however, wasted no time guffawing. They vied for position at the feeder.

And the squirrel was fine. He climbed back up the tree and sat a couple of branches above the feeder. He made a big show of licking his paws then smoothing the fur around his face and ears. Finally, he fluffed his tail with his tiny claws then gave it a swish, swish through the air. His rendition of a human tripping, picking herself up, looking around to see if anyone saw her fall, then smoothing out her clothes, before moving along like nothing happened. The squirrel made no second attempt at the feeder. The house finches came and went a few times, and each time they departed the chickadees and nuthatches rejoiced.

A downy woodpecker joined the troupe, an extra without a speaking role, relegating herself to the background while she pecked at the branches and trunk of the pine tree. Downy woodpeckers like to chum with chickadees and nuthatches, maybe because they take turns at the feeder, and downy woodpeckers like sunflower seeds. But today she was above jostling for seed, maybe she didn’t like house finches either.

I was supposed to be writing, but all the drama at the bird feeder was as good as a rousing, twisting, turning period drama on Masterpiece Theatre. Cooperation, backstabbing, greed, ingenuity, snobbery, high drama, and comic relief all outside my window. All potential themes and plot twists for a future story I might write.

And I managed to write a blog piece about it.