Clarence the wren is not happy


My name is Clarence Cavedweller Passiformus V. It’s a wren thing. We are from the family Troglodytidae after all. Not a lot of people know this, but in Latin the ae at the end of words is pronounced i. Just saying. My father was a Greek scholar as well as Latin. I’m Irish and I must say I do like the Irish term: dreoilín. Nice ring to it.

Of course it was the humans who granted us the title: The King of All Birds. You humans don’t know much but you did get that right. Now if you could sort out this ridiculous pesticide use in intensive agriculture you may have a place in the next millennium. Otherwise I’m afraid that you won’t make it. We will adapt to climate change – don’t worry about that. I’m not so sure about your species.

Not that I care. We saw the so called dinosaurs come and go. We will see you lot out too.

My main concern right now are those robins. I can tell you now: if those nasty inbred louts think they are going to intimidate myself or my family, they really don’t know their history.

WE are the kings of the birds. When the robins were scrambling around in the dirt, we were doing battles of wits with eagles and other significant orders. And winning.

And if those robins think they can scare us off with their red breast and aggressive behaviour, they have another thing coming. How vulgar that red is too, especially on the females. I mean, really. Everybody knows that females should have a more non-descript colouring. And it’s difficult to tell them apart too: the males and the females are practically identical. I sometimes wonder if they have trouble distinguishing between males and females themselves.

Mind you the way the humans are going, with men and women of the same sex marrying, it’s a wonder that different species aren’t at it. Blackbirds and thrushes, pigeons and hawks. Who knows where it will end. Cats and dogs? Sheep and horses? The world has gone mad, if you ask me.

No, we the wrens are superior in so many ways. Our tail, for example, and our size. Being small is a significant advantage. It also allows us to find shelter in caves and cracks and winter and very few species co-operate in such a way as to share heat, clustering in together so that we can survive severe temperatures. And our more modest colours makes it less likely for us to be preyed upon by cats.

Speaking of cats, how the humans allowed in those immigrants, I’ll never know. From Egypt, of all places. And now half of them are feral and roaming around like wild animals. And they carry disease – every species knows that. Filthy things. The way they breed too. Disgusting.

Ireland for the Irish, that’s what I say. We wrens have been here for thousands of years and we’re here to stay too. As monarchs. That much won’t change, even if we never do achieve the levels of glory we once held – when a squirrel (red, not those grey American types) could travel from Antrim to Kerry without touching the ground, such was our abundance of forest.

Come on robins! Do your worst. It’s not the size of the bird in the fight, you know, it’s the size of the fight in the bird. You’ll have a fine bloody red breast when I’m finished with you, I can promise you that!