The Cowtown Grackle War Of 2005

It surely is wonderful to behold when autumn comes to Cowtown. Temperatures cascade to the crisp delicious eighties, and westward bound commuters have beautiful cornea-burning sunsets to stare into for the thirty minute drive to the little Bonanza-on-the-Brazos. Like the swallows to Capistrano, the great-tailed grackle returns to the protection and shelter of the majestic brick and glass cliffs of Sundance Square in revitalized downtown.



Alas for the grackle, Cowtown is now engaged in full-fledged war against this winged creation of Mother Nature, this perfect example of animal survival against unceasing pasture-claiming sprawl. Our farsighted city hunters council members are advocating arming posses with special cracker-shell loaded shotguns in an effort to "retrain" these misguided guano-bombing miscreants of feathered fowl.

Now, in addition to the screech of brakes and obnoxious car horns, the late evening resounds not with melodious church bells ringing the five o'clock evening vespers, but the raucous blasts of shotguns ricocheting off tall buildings like it was opening day of dove season in Eastland County.

Far from downtown in the toney Ridglea neighborhood, the trees along Camp Bowie Boulevard grow black and heavy-branched with fugitives from this war. Congregating to strategize and grab a fast-food supper of Sonic fries and Starbucks cookie crumbs, these Darwinian darlings adapt fast and have been spotted in foreboding flocks near Cash America pawnshops, their glossy yellow eyes locked on plate glass window displays of handguns and pocketknives.

For ye generations of Alfred Hitchcock, this little-known tale of horror will take you back to yesteryear and your childhood fears of crazed avian attackers:

"When Fear Comes To Roost"*



*From The Day of the Grackle website.

On a more serious note, no one will emerge the victor of this war. Both human and fowl are victims of poor urban and wildlife population management; bandaid treatment of a greater ill.