The Stand Off

He poked his beady, little eyes out of the hole, in my direction again. He didn't think I'd still be there. But I was and so was he. The sun was rising high in the sun now. Hot. My side ached. That little bastard cut me sharp and quick. I didn't even see it coming. I just felt it.


It started off as a hot and hungry day. I waited patiently for my morning meal. Most meals were not easily come by on these desert days. Patience was key. Something would come by soon enough. Then, it did. That little creature emerged from its huge "nest". That was nothing surprising. It usually came out every morning, as all day creatures do.

He's peeking out again. Poking that fire stick out of the hole, moving it this way and that. He had to be getting hot and thirsty. He has been stuck in there a long time now. I made an advanced move in his direction, he quickly retreated into his safe hole.

When that nasty little creature come out today, he carried a long stick this time. He ran around holding it high, pointing it in all directions. I didn't care about no stick. He couldn't reach me. He never did. After all these years. That little sniper couldn't aim a rock, much less throw it far enough to reach my perch.

A cat was almost run over across the field. Almost. No meal yet.

I've been hunting these grounds a long time. I've flown over green fields, gardens, and twisting rivers. I've hunted up high, and searched down low. I never worried about creatures, big or small. Until today. Until that bald, wiry thing with a long stick made it's way out today. I was just waiting for my morning meal, sitting in the cottonwood tree. Perhaps, I should have found a higher place to wait. It raised that stick in my direction and it made a popping sound. Then, a sharp stab in my side sent some of my lovely feathers into the air.

It cut me! Red. All I saw was red. Without hesitation I flew in a beeline straight towards that little menace. My eyes glaring, wings reached out, as I let out a hysterical screech. I was going to give that little animal a sharp sting in its side, too. It ran! I could see it's eyes wide open, face red, and a wail of fear coming from its mouth. It ran and jumped through a hole in the place they keep mounds of grass feed. And there it waited. Waited for me to leave. I wasn't leaving.

Once in a while he would poke that stick out of the hole and make popping sounds. But, he must have given up on that useless trick. He hasn't made a move in a while now.

Suddenly, the big guy in the roaring machine approached. That brat made a move! He ran out of his hiding space and ran straight towards the big guy. I could hear him squawking about something. The big turned and looked in my direction. He yelled something back to the kid and grabbed that stick from his hands. That little fiend ran back to the big nest. As I flew away, I could see the big guy look back in my direction one last time.

I never saw that stick aimed in my direction again.