Woody the Woodpecker

At first I thought it was hoodlums. Every neighborhood has them, regardless of how affluent. Kids that follow no rules, have no manners, and seem like they have no parenting. No matter if I left one light on or all of them, the results in the morning were always the same. My expensive landscaping was quickly being destroyed.

The culprits: they were clever. They made not a sound as they dug up my pansies and tossed around the Kayla. Wednesday night, they got most of the ornamental cabbage, cutting the plants off at ground level.

Determined to find the guilty party and seeking retributions, I set the alarm clock. Four in the morning I switched on the lights in the backyard and caught them in the act. Not one, but five deer were munching on the landscaping. With a flick of white tails they were gone, and so was the rest of my cabbage.

Back in the day, Dad had a similar problem. Something was destroying the house at 110 Flamingo St. The first September in our new house, Dad woke at two each night to the sound of pounding outside. But when he opened the sliding glass door and stepped onto the wood deck, no one was there. Instead he found the gutter above riddled with holes.

This went on for weeks: constant banging on the gutter, followed by dad swearing, slamming the sliding glass door, and swearing again. Finally, he slept in the carport. Okay, he really slept in the green station wagon with faux wood panels. Not because mom kicked him out of bed for keeping her up all night. Nope, he was determined to catch the kids who were shooting BB guns at his gutter.

Only it wasn’t hooligans running amuck in our neighborhood doing the damage. On his second night in the car the sky was clear and full of stars. A full moon provided an eerie illumination. As if on cue, at two in the morning a massive shape flew across the yard. It swooped down over the carport and perched on the edge of the gutter, then started to pound away.

Dad ran into the house, got everybody up and said, “You’re not going to believe this, but a giant red-headed woodpecker is attacking our house.”

Dad was right. None of us believed him. Even when he marched us out on the deck to show us his make-believe woodpecker. The next morning he called some animal guy with the state and told him the story. He asked, “How do you get rid of a giant woodpecker?”

The guy from the state told dad, “If indeed it is a giant red-headed woodpecker then it’s a protected species. He’s just sounding a mating call, and as soon as he finds a female, they’ll fly off together. Besides, it’s against the law to kill a woodpecker, especially a giant red-headed woodpecker. And no matter what happens, you can’t shoot it.”

I know — for a month, Dad tried. Darn woodpecker was too fast. During that time, we saw Dad’s giant woodpecker on many occasions, even during the daylight. And to our surprise, he really did look like he was two or even three feet tall. Of course, it might have had something to do with the fact we were watching him across the yard through mom’s high-powered binoculars.

Over the years the true size of the red-headed woodpecker with black wings and red tail feathers has grown with each retelling of the story. If you ask my dad today, the hormonal driven woodpecker was well over three feet tall. And not only destroyed the gutter, but the entire deck as well.

Around the first of October, the nighttime pounding sudden stopped. Guess Woody found himself a girl friend. Funny, when he was around there were no deer in our yard. Guess all of that pounding kept them away.

Which leads me to a solution to my deer problem; no longer will my backyard be a smorgasbord. Our white tail friends will just have to forage in the forest if they want food. This time when I buy ornamental cabbage, kale, and pansies, I’ll buy one additional item – a three-foot blowup red-headed woodpecker.

He’ll keep a watchfully eye on the backyard and my plants from his perch, strategically placed on top of my gutter. Just above my back deck.

Hope Dad doesn’t come for a visit. Woody doesn’t stand a chance if he spots him.