Irrational Animal Fear #1 - Birds

As the Halloween season dawns, I like to reflect on some of the things that scare me. Like thousands of BYU students, I am afraid to walk by the duck pond south of campus after 10 PM. Unlike these fellow students, a rape whistle isn’t going to do much to qualm my fears because I don’t think they have any effect on the ducks. You see, ever since I was a little boy, I have had an admittedly irrational fear of birds. I think it might go back to the time I visited the zoo with my family and a bird shot my father.

They say that many Americans list public speaking as their number one greatest fear, which means that they would rather be the guy in the casket than the guy giving the eulogy at a funeral. Well, I would love to give the eulogy at a bird’s funeral. The following are some of the traumatic experiences I’ve had with birds over the years:

- As a small boy I am riding my tricycle out by the pool while eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Suddenly, a bird swoops down and steals the sandwich right out of my hand. My innocent mind is so shocked by this act of theft that I lose control of my tricycle and fall in the pool.

- As a lad, I watch my mother scream and call animal services to come remove a bird that had flown in through her bedroom window. “This animal must surely be terrifying if my mother required the services of a professional to remove it from our home,” thought baby Steven.

- My older sister torments me by telling me a story about a bird that attacked her while she was walking home from school. This bird allegedly swooped down and started pecking at her head as she ran her fingers through her hair, apparently mistaking her fingers for worms.

- In elementary school, my best friend A.J Moore releases his pet bird from its cage and makes fun of me as I run away.

- During a missionary lesson in India, a terrifying little chick jumps up onto my knee. I leap up into the air and the chick scampers away before it can do any damage.

- My older sister continues to prey upon my “gull”-ibility by telling me a story about a flock of seagulls that swarmed over her and stocked her while at the beach.

- After a long day of tracting in India, my greenie companion and I come home to find a pigeon in our bedroom. I make him scare it away while I hide in the kitchen.

- While riding my bicycle alongside my companion in Rajahmundry, India, we stop to watch as a flock of birds jumps down from a nearby roof and run across the street. Suddenly we realize that these birds are being chased by another bird, soaking wet in its own drool and making crazy rabid animal noises. Naturally, I make eye contact with this bird and it chases me and my companion down the street.

Now, the birds in that last story were actually monkeys, but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying.

Scary stuff, right? As you can see, my bird-phobia is based on actual terrifying personal experiences, as well as reliable first-hand accounts from my sister, who may have hated me as a child.

Now, as stated above, I know that to be afraid of birds is irrational. When you think about it, they are just harmless little rats with wings. I don’t even mind being near a bird as long as it's facing the opposite direction. That way I know it’s not going to suddenly take off and fly into my face. The problem is . . . you don’t have a lot of time to think when you have a hummingbird staring you down with murder in its eyes.

Many people have tried to talk me through this, but I think it’s just something that I’m going to carry with me throughout the rest of my life...maybe even into the next.

This bird-phobia certainly has its limitations, but I like to think I live a pretty normal life. I mean, I do have to be a little more creative when planning dates because feeding the ducks is never an option; I’m unable to enjoy large European cities because I’m too busy running away from pigeons; and sometimes I get uncomfortable when at the beach or running my hands through my hair. Other than that, life is normal. On the plus side, I have a sixth sense when it comes to awareness of birds in a general area. I just hope that when I become a dinosaur, I get to be one that eats birds.