My home is being terrorized by a creature so awful that it even strikes fear into the heart of our intrepid guard dog, Megs.
We’ve been plagued by this horror, intermittently, for years now.
It might stay awake for weeks at a time, but its return always presages a day of cowering and abuse for poor Megs. The abuse, I might add, is accidental and if she’d spend less time glued to my legs she’d also spend less time getting tripped over and shut in doors.
The beast is called Marvin. He’s a woodpecker.
Marvin sits on our roof pecking all day on the metal chimney flue. Goodness knows what Megs thinks it is, but the sound of beak on metal reverberating through the house leaves her paralyzed with terror.
Why does Marvin do this? Can he honestly think our chimney is a tree? We’re not sure, but I’m fairly certain he can’t still be expecting a bug. I suppose it could be some sort of amplified mating ritual, but I have a strong suspicion that tormenting Megs is how the local woodpecker delinquents get their kicks.
I like to feel that Megs would rush fearlessly to my defense against intruders, marauders or even a zombie apocalypse. But everyone has their limits and arboreally challenged woodpeckers, apparently, is hers.