Cool Fathers of the Bird World: An Ode to Dads Everywhere

In the grand aviary of life, some of the best lessons in fatherhood come from our feathered friends. Birds, like humans, have their unique ways of protecting and nurturing their young. And just like the dads we know and love, bird fathers come in all shapes and sizes, each with their own style of guardianship. Take, for instance, the noble eagle, the feisty blue jay, and the ever-vigilant rooster.

Eagle Dad Helping to Build Nest

Eagle dads are the epitome of shared responsibility. They help build the nest, ensuring every twig is in its rightful place, just as a dad might meticulously assemble a backyard playset (which my dad did). Eagles are vigilant protectors, soaring high above to keep an eye on their territory, much like a father who watches over his family with unwavering dedication. They are majestic symbols of strength and guardianship. See Hope Springs Eternal or The Eagle Has Nested.

Then there’s the blue jay dad—a smaller, scrappier figure but no less fierce. Recently, I had a close encounter with one of these pint-sized protectors during a Workout Wednesday with Sheila, my ever-energetic Cattle dog. Sheila was gleefully splashing in a stream, while I decided to take a breather on a nearby rock. That’s when Blue Jay Dad made his presence known.

Blue Jack Attack

The blue jay dad—a smaller, scrappier figure but no less fierce.

Without warning, he swooped down, cawing with the intensity of a drill sergeant. I looked up just in time to see him diving at me again, his tiny form bristling with paternal fury. His message was clear: I was too close to his nest, and he wasn’t having any of it. It was like watching my own dad spring into action whenever he felt his family was threatened, though thankfully, my dad never resorted to dive-bombing.

Blue Jay Dad’s relentless defense reminded me of my father’s protective nature. My dad might not have had feathers, but he was always ready to swoop in when needed. He was there for every scraped knee, every broken heart, and every big decision. Much like the eagle, he shared in the responsibilities of raising us, ensuring our home was a place of safety and love.

And then there’s the rooster—a feathered, beaked, and claw-bearing sentinel of the old homestead. We used to have a particularly feisty one that turned gathering eggs into a daily adventure. Every morning, I’d enter the chicken coop armed with a basket and steely resolve. The rooster, giving me he side eye, puffed up with self-importance, would sometimes be invisible, lurking in the shadows, ready to defend his domain. The lil booger could be in the neighbor’s cornfield, but he’d often sneak up on me, making me jump, and then charge with the ferocity of a velociraptor, wings spread wide. This was Dad’s entertainment; he would stand laughing from the screened window of his bedroom. He was also vigilant, keeping a watchful eye as we went about our chores. My young cousin bears a scar to this day where his rooster pecked and clawed him, so I was extra leery. I had to be vigilant, constantly on the lookout, and deftly dodge his pecks to collect the eggs. It was a test of agility and determination, much like the lessons my dad imparted through his unwavering support and tough love.

Velociraptor Bantam Rooster

And then charge with the ferocity of a Velociraptor, spreading his wings.

As Blue Jay Dad continued his aerial assault, I couldn’t help but admire his dedication. He wasn’t as grand as an eagle, but his bravery was no less significant. It was the same tenacity my dad showed, whether he was fixing a leaky faucet or standing up for me at a parent-teacher meeting. His love was fierce, sometimes embarrassingly so, but always exactly what we needed.

Eventually, I moved a respectful distance away from Blue Jay Dad’s nest. He ceased his attacks and perched nearby, watching me with a vigilant eye. Sheila, oblivious to my ordeal, finally noticed and bounded over, shaking off water and giving me a look that said, “What’s the big deal?”

As we headed home, I reflected on the fathers of the bird world and the lessons they impart. Blue Jay Dad, with his tiny stature and enormous bravery, was a perfect symbol of all the cool dads out there. Dads who build and protect, who swoop in when needed, and who aren’t afraid to look a little silly in the process.

So, here’s to the eagle dads, the blue jay dads, and the roosters, and especially to my dad. Thank you for your strength, your protection, and your unwavering love. You’ve taught me that fatherhood is about more than just being there—it’s about being present, being brave, and sometimes, being hilariously over-the-top. Just like you.

KwikPet

AMZN

Nature Journal