Toad in the Hole

No, not TV.

I was sitting at the keyboard here in my bathrobe… OK, I was playing 19th-level Trogdor. Joe was at the library, Matt the Cat was out somewhere, and Shep the snake was still mooning about his cage, all lovelorn with the season.

I heard a tip-tap in the dining room. Not clunky enough to be the turtles, maybe the rats (lovelorn snakes lose their other appetites), maybe… ?

I looked over my shoulder into the dining room. There was a California towhee on the rug, a couple of feet from the office door. It hopped and pecked in the casual irregular rhythm they have, cocked its head this way and that, kept hopping over to a spot under the dining room table.

Hmm, maybe I should vacuum more.

Kept hopping and pecking at the floor, disappeared behind the table.

I got up and very quietly walked to the office door. I knew the back door was open, and worried that Matt might have come in too; also worried that I’d panic the towhee and it would fly into a window or something. No, it came out between the table and the ugly heater, still hop-pecking, cast an eye on me, never broke stride.

Kept on at the same pace across the dining room, into the kitchen; meandered across the kitchen and through the back hall, out the back door.

We used to see the occasional towhee in the back hall at our last place, where they’d come in to inspect the dust bunnies under the storage shelves. But that was a first-floor flat; here, we’re in the second floor. I also used to think it was the inexperienced young, maybe birds hatched that year, who were so tame. I guess not, as it’s only March and this year’s birds haven’t fledged yet.

I wonder who’ll come in if I get to the 20th Trogdor level.