Ever since I saw Alfred Hitchcock's "The Birds", I've had an uneasy relationship with our feathered friends and by uneasy, I mean fear. 1 or 2 flying around or sitting on a wire, I can deal with. But the other day as I was leaving Panera Bread in Dover, birds were on every single branch of a small tree, must have been about 50 of them. And in my mind, all ready to gouge my eyes out. Now I read the Pope's Peace Doves were attacked by other birds, and as Aaron Lapierre blogged last week, Owls are hanging around longer than usual. Owls have nasty beaks too. As if I needed another reason to stay inside.