In the 1990 movie, Misery, this quote was spoken, but I’d heard this term on the playground over 65 years ago. Yes, it was disparaging, and as I recall it was used to by the opposing team to describe someone who caught a fly a ball to end the inning or to rebuke a tattletale.

I’ve never been a fan of birds after watching the movie by the same name or being chased by my grandparents’ mean rooster. I can appreciate the majesty of a bald eagle or a soaring osprey; I can smile as a pelican swoops into the Gulf for dinner; I can ogle at the colorful parrots and macaws at the zoo. But basically, I detest birds–yes, even if they eat insects. They not only eat bugs, they peck at near-ripe fruit and tomatoes. They pull up seedlings as the plants peek through my garden soil. Ok, I accepted that; I’ve learned to use netting to cover the fruit trees and to place clear plastic cups on my bean sprouts. However, I can not deal with bird poop.

My ordeal with bird feces began when folk on the next street moved and released all of their cooped pigeons into the atmosphere. Unfortunately they migrated under the overhang roof in the front of my casa. Of course, my water fountain is directly below and was soon filled with two or three inches of defecation. It was also all over the patio and its furniture; it dripped down the large windows. It was far beyond disgusting–it made me gag when I looked at the blobby mess. So last weekend, I had plastic spikes installed to prevent rafter roosting. Thanks, to my incredible landscaper the bird s#*t had been meticulously removed, but by Wednesday, my pristine front patio was trashed again. Those wily pigeons are masochists! They enjoy standing on a bed of nails!

Back to Amazon I went. Should I buy a robotic owl that hooted and flashed its yellow eyes? (Too pricey.) Should I buy an ultrasound alarm that blasted a variety of noises? (Hell, no.). How about mirrored, dangling reflectors, which were guaranteed to send the pigeons packing? The price was alright; they were guaranteed; why not? It took my two hours to assemble the reflectors which somewhat look like wind chimes. Cheap wind chimes. After I hung them, I decided they were the ultimate in tackiness. I shall endure them only as long as they drive out my diarrhea pigeons.

Of course, it’s too soon to tell. Stay tuned until next week. But by then, I may have sent for Bill Murray, who was so adept at obliterating gophers…not. He may be better with dirty birds.