I think robins get a raw deal.

No, really.

Here's the thing...robins are always the first sign of spring. "I saw my first robin!", or, "There was a pair of robins eating worms in the neighbour's backyard!", and of course, "Hurray! Get out my gardening hat, the robins are back!"

For about a week in spring, robins are the bomb. They're freakin' rock stars. But ask yourself this: do you ever notice them after the crocus, daffodils and tulips bloom? Do you even see them? In fact, after months of being buried in the evil white stuff, you celebrate and throw open your windows for the first warmish evening, sleeping with a cool-warm breeze on your sleepy, smiling face...and at around 5:00 in the morning you hear the first beautiful sounds of the morning, lovely birdsong. I bet you didn't know it was our friend the robin making that delightful music.

But sadly, you eventually hate the sound because, dammit, you can't sleep in. "The freakin' birds are so loud at 5:00 in the morning...argh!"

Why such a roguish affair with her? She is the beacon of hope for us every spring. She reminds us that warm weather is coming (and the smell of poo.) She loves being with us...she's the first one back, and the last one to leave. In the fall, I bet you never even notice she's gone, because you haven't paid attention all summer.

Please, good Pigdump readers. Keep the love alive for the robin. Celebrate her in the spring. Enjoy her song at 5:00 in the morning. Tell her, "Hello, I hope you're having a wonderful stay in my yard this year." Revel in that big fat red-breasted beauty all spring and summer long. She'll be gone before you know it.

Thanks and good luck.