Michelle’s feathers are ruffled by carnivorous Cooper’s Hawk

So I look out my window and there he is. Beady eyes. Sharp, hooked beak. Mr. Cooper is hungry and yeah, I know he’s got to eat. But not my songbirds. Not on my watch.

“He’s back again,” I tell my husband, Mark. “And he’s watching the feeders like a hawk.”

“That makes sense, Michelle, since he is a hawk.”

A Cooper’s Hawk, to be exact.

Sometimes he visits with his mate, Mrs. Cooper. This power couple enjoys dining out. Lately, their favorite restaurant is the seed-and-suet birdfeeder set up in my backyard. No problem if they ordered from the menu. But the Coopers eat other birds.

“They’re here to pick off the other diners!” I tell Mark.

“It’s the circle of life,” he says and shrugs.

“The Coopers are cannibals. They need to go vegan.”

Deep down, I know that’s not going to happen. But could they at least stop using my feeders to lure in their lunch? We live on a lake and our home is surrounded by woods. There are plenty of places for The Coopers to hunt. They need to leave my feathered friends alone.

I have nicknamed my birdfeeder station “Shelly’s Bird Diner.” I like to think of it as kind of a “Cheers” for birds with perches instead of bar stools.

Regular customers include Fred and Fiona Bluebird. They’ve raised their babies in our bluebird house the last few years. And then, there’s the feisty, little house finch I call Howie. Last year, he swooped through our front door and circled around my husband’s head. I caught Howie when he landed in a houseplant and carried him back outside.

Woodpeckers, chickadees, wrens and cardinals also dine at our feeders, along with some acrobatically-gifted squirrels.

I like to think of our yard as a safe haven for wildlife. Visitors include deer, foxes, raccoons and the occasional mink. We even have a pair of eagles who fish on our lake. Sometimes the eagles make a meal of the geese. Once again, the circle of life. I may understand it. But I don’t have to like it.

Which brings us back to the Coopers.

“Do you want me to get you a pea shooter?” Mark joked, when he saw Mr. Cooper in a tree. “Or do you just want to stand on the deck and flail your arms like you usually do?”

“I think I’ll go for the flailing,” I said. “A pea shooter might hurt him.”

It’s a bird eat bird world out there. But like I said, not on my watch.