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Humor

Resting Bird Face

We listened in on a pair of eagles near White Rock Lake. We bring you this revelatory transcript.
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A pair of bald eagles built a nest in a cottonwood tree at Lake Highlands Park, near the north end of White Rock Lake, in the fall. Dallas’ Park & Recreation Department took awhile to respond to the rare occurrence, but it eventually fenced off the athletic fields under the tree to give the federally protected birds their space. Then, on February 15, high winds blew the nest out of its tree, and the eagles had to relocate. Unbeknownst to the eagles, though, D Magazine had installed a sophisticated listening device in an adjacent tree. Using Google’s eagle-to-English translation function, we are able to bring you this revelatory transcript of their communication on the morning of the nest failure.

***

“How did you sleep?”

“I mean, not good. To be honest. You were snoring again. I tried to get you to roll over onto your wing, but you wouldn’t budge.”

“I’m sorry. My beak was all stuffed up.”

“And then a nerve in my nape was killing me, like it’s pinched or something. Couldn’t turn my head.”

“That sucks.”

“And the hot flashes are back. What was it? Forty degrees last night? And the wind was blowing like crazy. Yet I’m up here practically dripping sweat through this nest.”

“Pretty sure I did something to my tarsus. See where it’s swollen here? I don’t know. Maybe from that carp I caught.”

“Still?”

“Wha—”

“With the fish? Thank you. Again. For the fish. That’s great. But you act like you deserve a medal because you’re the only eagle who ever pulled a fish out of White Rock. Meanwhile I’m perched over here with my stomach in knots with what is almost certainly trichomonosis from that effing pigeon I had to eat yesterday.”

“I wasn’t suggesting it was anything special, but the fact is, someone still has to fly over there. Leaving the nest is exhausting. Grackles everywhere this time of year. If it’s not the grackles, it’s the crows. I got attacked by a crow the other day just for saying I thought Neil Young wasn’t going to change anything by pulling his music off Spotify. I didn’t say I liked Joe Rogan—though, you know, why the guy is getting censored for simply asking questions is beyond me. Last time I checked, this was America, and it wasn’t illegal to ask questions. Also it’s crowded as hell with all those photographers at Sunset Bay. And it wasn’t just a fish either, like a white crappie or whatever. It was an Asian carp. A big carp. Which is how I think I did this thing to my tarsus.”

“Enough with the tarsus! I am so sick and tired of hearing about the tarsus, Eddie!”

“Geez, Elaine. I thought we were sharing. You’ve got that nerve problem, which I know must really hurt. The hot flashes. The trichomonosis. Likely trichomonosis. So I was telling you about my tarsus. Because of the carp.”

“OK, listen, fine. I’m sorry. I overreacted. I’m tired. So I am sorry. I didn’t want to start the day this way, with the bickering over the fish—the carp. Sorry. It was a great carp, Eddie, and I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.”

“That’s great. Let’s change the subject. How are you voting for governor in the primary?”

“Who am I voting for? Elaine, come on. We are American bald eagles. I mean, we’re not egrets. I want lower taxes, and I want the Dallas Cowboys to win another Super Bowl. It’s time to get these RINOs out of Austin. Don Huffines has my vote. That man looks good in a windowpane suit and a cowboy hat.”

“My mother was right about you.”

“Your mother was a—”

“Shush! Eddie, did you feel that?” 

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Tim Rogers

Tim Rogers

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Tim is the editor of D Magazine, where he has worked since 2001. He won a National Magazine Award in…

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