Bird Bomber Bags Editor with Precise Poop Payload
I've been running for about 45 years. For the first time, a bird in a tree took aim and scored a direct hit.
I've been jogging for a long time, maybe 45 years. I've had close calls with falling acorns. I've gone eyeball-to-yellow-eyeball with a wolf-sized coyote. Once, in the dark, I'm pretty sure I stepped on a raccoon. But the animal screamed and I screamed, and I set a personal record for the hundred meter dash in the dark, so I can't be sure. But in all those decades of running, I've never been crapped upon by a bird. Until Monday morning. It had to be studying me, up in that tree on Chicago Avenue in Downers Grove, watching me get closer, judging my speed (or lack thereof), factoring in a light breeze, distance to the ground and gravitational acceleration, the expected shape and aerodynamic qualities of the payload. Then, at that perfect …
