Chirp. Chirp. Chirp.
All day at work, I hear it. You'd think a melodic tune from a songbird would be a welcome diversion from the work day. Think again, when it is the final tweettweets of a bird trapped in the duct work of my office building. It can't get out. It hasn't eaten for days. There it is, just chirp chirping away.
Help me, help me, help me...
I brought it to the attention of the office manager, who called the facilities folks. Yesterday, a guy with a ladder came around, lifting the ceiling tiles and poking around, looking for the critter. He found it. But he couldn't reach it. So he said he'd be back again today.
I thought, "Ah, he'll figure out a way to rescue the birdy and let it loose outside to fly away home to its friends."
Again, think again.
His solution? "I think I'll spray it with wasp pesticide. That'll kill it."
Whoawhoawhoa! If I'd wanted it dead, I would've kept my mouth shut and let it go into the peaceful beyond on its own. I don't want someone to poison it to death! And then let it rot in the ceiling! Keep in mind, my office building is located in a research park that is monitored by the National Wildlife Federation. Surely there's a more humane way to deal with this issue.
When Dimwit the Barbarian was on his ladder, rooting around, he found another bird dead up there, too. He tried to reassure us about what he thought was our concern.
"Don't worry," he said. "This one's been dead a while, and it's not stinking or anything..."
No. The only thing stinking is his building management skills.
All day at work, I hear it. You'd think a melodic tune from a songbird would be a welcome diversion from the work day. Think again, when it is the final tweettweets of a bird trapped in the duct work of my office building. It can't get out. It hasn't eaten for days. There it is, just chirp chirping away.
Help me, help me, help me...
I brought it to the attention of the office manager, who called the facilities folks. Yesterday, a guy with a ladder came around, lifting the ceiling tiles and poking around, looking for the critter. He found it. But he couldn't reach it. So he said he'd be back again today.
I thought, "Ah, he'll figure out a way to rescue the birdy and let it loose outside to fly away home to its friends."
Again, think again.
His solution? "I think I'll spray it with wasp pesticide. That'll kill it."
Whoawhoawhoa! If I'd wanted it dead, I would've kept my mouth shut and let it go into the peaceful beyond on its own. I don't want someone to poison it to death! And then let it rot in the ceiling! Keep in mind, my office building is located in a research park that is monitored by the National Wildlife Federation. Surely there's a more humane way to deal with this issue.
When Dimwit the Barbarian was on his ladder, rooting around, he found another bird dead up there, too. He tried to reassure us about what he thought was our concern.
"Don't worry," he said. "This one's been dead a while, and it's not stinking or anything..."
No. The only thing stinking is his building management skills.
Comments