I hoped for something a little more majestic. An eagle or hawk perhaps. If it had to be a shore bird why not a heron or even pelican. Everyone loves pelicans.
Not this. Why did I have to be a seagull this time around. The one bird that is alternately despised as flying vermin or ridiculed as a dimwitted clown.
It’s true… gulls are dumb as rocks and eat almost anything. I can’t subsist on a diet of cold french fries and stale crackers. All the flock wants to do is beg tourists for food and splatter parked cars with guano. They fancy themselves urban artists. That’s just a load of crap.
I’ve got to worry about getting caught in fishing nets or entangled in trash floating in the water. Ralph drowned just yesterday with the plastic rings from a six-pack wrapped around his neck. It was a humiliating death.
And the kids! Damn! I can’t enjoy a little peace and quiet on the beach, digging for mussels, without some maniacal kid chasing after me with a pail. I’m not available for pet adoption, back off brat!
It’s not all bad though.
I do get to fly. Skidding over the ocean at breakneck speeds. I can catch a thermal and ride it for hours. The view from up there is amazing.
The weather’s nice here too, warm pretty much year ‘round. No long flights south. There’s no one trying to shoot me and hang me in their den, or stuff and roast me for a holiday dinner.
I do have all the fresh seafood I want, if fast food isn’t my thing.
It could be worse. I could have come back as a pigeon.