What We Cherish

Just as Jane Goodall continues caring for Jubilee, I continue to keep Icky by my side.

I’ve no idea how he got his name and no one in my family remembers either. He entered my life shortly after my birth, while I was still in the hospital, and has stayed with me ever since. He’s been cuddled, fought over, lost, found, washed, and stepped on; he’s gone swimming, swinging, camping, and travelling; he’s been read to and cried on, squeezed and loved.

Last week my husband operated on Icky, who had become profoundly impaired. I’m sorry I don’t have a “BEFORE” photo to share with you (although Icky probably wouldn’t have appreciated that). Imagine a wilted mound of terry cloth with felt facial features.

NOW look at him! Icky has never been so solid. It’s the first time he’s been able to sit up on his own. With new stuffing and a clean playsuit (he didn’t come clothed originally, but a good wardrobe was always paramount in my family so I kept him in doll clothes), he’s ready for the next segment of our journey together.

Thank you, dear husband, for reviving my first animal.

And thank you, Icky, for your perseverance and patience.

Changing Bully Behavior, One Bully at a Time

ullies are everywhere: the classroom, the workplace, the Internet, your neighborhood. They come in a complete spectrum of shape, size, age, and species.

Bullies targeted me as a child—called me names, flung me to the ground by lassoing my legs, commanded a dog to attack me, lit a match and threatened to set my new dress on fire. I took it and didn’t snitch on anyone. (With the exception of the dog incident, which required a trip to the ER for stitches.) I never harbored any ill feelings toward my abusers, but I never forgot what their abuse felt like.

However, I’ve recently observed bullying and I can tell you that watching it happen is entirely different than being on the receiving end. I angered quickly and felt compelled to take action.

The bully on my short list is a house sparrow.

Remember the feeder we purchased? It’s been a successful diner for tree sparrows, wrens, song sparrows, vireos, cardinals, chipmunks, purple finches, and one bad-to-the-bone house sparrow.

If he’s perched on the feeder, he screams or bats his wings at other birds trying to get a place at the table. If other birds are already on the feeder when he stops by, he grabs their tail feathers in his beak and pulls them off, or he hovers above them and punches their backs with his tiny feet.

I tried a Pollyanna-ish reprimand to no effect. I clapped my hands, which scared all the birds. Then, finally, I tried what turned out to be the Holy Grail of Weapons: a fake cardinal.

It’s a small stuffed animal that my pooch saw in a shop window years ago. She liked it even more when the shopkeeper showed her how it “sang” when squeezed. It’s one of the few toys we kept after the pooch’s passing.

When Mr. Bad-to-the-Bone cranked up his scare tactics one afternoon to have the feeder all to himself, I squeezed the plush cardinal. Mr. B took off, and has hardly stirred since.

Bullying serves no useful function in our lives or our environment. Let’s stand up to bullies and help them be their better selves—no matter the species.

[Drop cap by Jessica Hische.]