Springtime in Whirlpool

Cheyenne and I have guests. I'm not sure how many but I know they have moved in with us. Seems that a bird discovered the dryer vent on the outside wall. As my dryer is on the second floor, I guess she was clever enough to scoot through the flap and build herself a nest at safe distance from the neighborhood cats, as well as in a spot that protects her from unwanted elements of weather. Who needs a tree? If she were employed by my company and on the conference call I was on this morning, someone would have said that she was thinking outside the box.

Cheyenne spent the better part of Sunday at the doors to the washer and dryer, sniffing the space between door and floor, pacing, and occasionally staring at the door with her head cocked in confusion. When I investigated, I heard the young birds chirping their hunger, crawled on top of the dryer to look at the back, and could see the shadow of the nest in the dryer vent hose. I sat there enjoying the sweat sound of those young birds until I recalled that I had a washing machine full of wet towels and wondered what I was going to do with that, because to use my dryer would mean killing baby birds and there is absolutely no room on my conscience for that.

On Monday, I hauled the damp load of towels and all my other laundry to the dry cleaner. When Evelyn asked why I was bringing my wash and fold to her and I explained about the nest and not wanting to harm the birds, she smiled at me but also raised her eyebrows in a way that said she thought I was a bit misguided. I shrugged my shoulders, smiled at her, and said that it was good for the birds and good for her business.

Sometimes, doing what you believe is the right thing does not exclude you from having to pay for it.

But this isn't one of those times.

Last night when I picked up my clothes, Evelyn smiled at me, said, I gave you fifteen percent off because you take care of the birds.