The catbirds are back, and singing sweetly in the yews. Don't be enchanted by their melodies. If robins are your loud and excitable neighbors, and blue jays a motorcycle gang blowing through town, and crows the dark overlords of mischief, then catbirds are con men and thieves. They sing sweetly, then steal your blueberries. They're eyeing my bushes already, licking their beaks and planning their raids. I know what they're up to.
Who, me?
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