It's dead bird season *shudder*

Last weekend, as I went to the window to check on the flowers emerging from the ground, my eye caught something else. A very dead bird. Feet all curled up and everything. Seriously, I nearly got sick. I cannot stand dead birds, and I hate this time of year because they're all over the place. People always assume that it's because something bad happened to me, but that's not the case. Unless you count almost stepping on a dead robin on my way to the library when I was like seven, but as I recall, I was more fascinated at that point that grossed out.

Nope, instead it's classic phobia inheritance (I'm making up that term, but it describes what it actually is--inheriting a phobic behavior) as I learned in a psych class in college. Basically what it means is that if one or both of your parents exhibit a strong fear (i.e. phobic fear) of something around you as a small child, you can adopt their behavior without actually ever experiencing anything bad happening to you to cause it. For those who've seen The Aviator, it sure seemed to me that Howard Hughes's mother was either a hypchondriac or obsessive compulsive or both and you see that behavior in him later. Of course, if I remember correctly, there might have been some cause for her obsessive bathing of him--an epidemic of some kind--but even still, she was a little over the top. Obviously there's probably a genetic component at work there too.

My phobia is inherited from one of my parents. My mom hates birds. She has good reason. She grew up on a farm with chickens. And you've heard that expression, "Running around like a chicken with its head chopped off"? Yeah, let's just say that actually happens. *shudder* But oddly enough, over the years, my fear has mutated to become my very own. My mom is not particularly afraid of dead ones more than live ones, but I am. And maybe afraid is the right word...horribly and terribly grossed out to the point of gagging might be more accurate. I react to them the way most people react to mice or snakes or really big and hairy spiders. *full body shudder*

I'm also not afraid of big birds, like swans or geese or even ducks. Seeing them dead doesn't make me happy, but I can deal without obsessing over it. Unlike say, a sparrow or a robin. I hate even writing the names! Once Snostorm cornered an injured robin in our backyard--she was off leash because the yard was fenced--and I screamed myself hoarse trying to keep her away from it. I was terrified she was going to grab that bird in her mouth and there would be wings flapping and squawking...I feel faint just thinking about it. I told my husband that if she'd done it, I would have had no choice but to leave her outside until he came home.

So, last weekend, I actually called my poor husband while he was working and requested that he perform body removal services. Immediately. Which he did (it's only fair--I do spider removal). But now every time I look out the window, I kept expecting to see it there. Hmm. I may be suffering from Post Traumatic Dead Bird Syndrome.

Then today at work, as I was walking through the glass walkway that connects two buildings, I looked over and saw another one! Dude. And it takes the facility guys forever to come and get those too. Which means I will be treated to another week or so of averting my eyes and turning my head so I won't accidentally see it. Sheesh.

Incidentally, I do think flawed characters make for great reading/viewing, which is why Monk is so much fun, The Aviator was so fascinating and the ex-demon Anya's fear of bunnies on Buffy the Vampire Slayer was so hilarious. But it's way less enjoyable in real life. Anybody else out there have phobias, inherited or otherwise?