"Three," Hazel answered.
"Three security breaches?" I asked.
"No--just one in 3," she answered.
"So security breaches are down 66 percent?"
"What?" Hazel was now as confused as I was. "There's one breech in zone 3. It's a bird. It's making lots of noise and a big mess."
"I see. Can you deploy the feline troops for this one?"
"They're less than enthusiastic about the mission," Hazel said. "Also, it's nap time."
Hazel followed me as I crept around to the bathroom window on the east side of the house. The mockingbird was going to town, seemingly undeterred by the shirts' bright paisleys and plaids.
I returned to the garage to retrieve a hose with spray nozzle, and connected it to the spigot just around the corner from the bird. I turned the water on full and with hose in hand I crept in beneath the large butterfly bush by the bathroom window.
"I wouldn't do that," Hazel whispered as she peeked around the corner of the house.
"You had your chance," I whispered back and crept in further.
When the mockingbird came in for another attack I leapt from the bush, aimed the spray nozzle, and let loose the water. Unfortunately, when I leapt out, I pulled tight a kink in the hose. A rather anticlimactic spurt of water was followed by a brief, sputtering mist and then nothing.
The spurt of water was only sufficient to further agitate the already agitated mockingbird. He dove at my head. I tried to escape between the house and the butterfly bush, but my left pant leg tore and became caught on a thick and recently-pruned branch.
The mockingbird dove again and again. I was pecked and clawed and shrieked at as I tried to free myself. The kink in the hose must have loosened in the commotion, because the spray nozzle that was now jammed in among some branches let loose a powerful jet of water that instantly soaked and blinded me.
"Urg!" I shouted wetly.
"Retreat!" Hazel hollered and ran.
I fell to the dirt. I was beneath the jet of water and able to pull my left boot and pant leg loose. The water shooting from the bush kept the mockingbird at bay as I prepared my escape.
Again I leapt from the bush, this time with my pants half off, shouting and wildly swinging a boot around my head. The bird was gone.
Pickles and Jack had pushed aside the shirts and sat motionless in the bathroom window. Then they sat up and began clapping silently behind the glass. I heard other tiny applause behind me.
Macy and Sascha sat in the grass clapping as best they could with their little, well-padded paws.
"You came," I said.
"You woke us up," Macy responded. "What was all the racket?"
I pretended not to hear Macy's question. I turned off the water and looked around. The mockingbird was nowhere to be seen, and neither were any neighbors with cameras or video cameras.
"Nice job everybody!" I said. "That was a real team effort today."
I left the scene before anybody could say anything. I hung up the wet clothing, toweled off and crawled back into bed. I wondered if I should have ever gotten up. At least I had another hour before I needed to leave for the horse show. I set the alarm and lay back on my pillow.
"You sure showed that bird who's boss!" Pickles exclaimed before he and Jack curled up next to me. Pickles and Jack were both purring like motorboats, which was nice because I could barely hear the angry knocking on the window as I drifted to sleep.
Jeremy Law and his wife, Kimberly, live on a small farm in North Carolina.
Read Jeremy's other columns in EquiSearch.com's Humor section.
