An aggressive seagull has set his sights on me. He has taken up residence two doors down from me in our tiny cul-de-sac, where he has built a nest with his better half on the neighbour’s roof. Together, he and the missus, have hatched four downy, speckled, yappy chicks. Those chicks have been hatched at the expense of the peace and safety of our cul-de-sac.

Three weeks go, the seagull started dive bombing me. Initially, he attacked me as I entered the street with my dog after a walk. He flew low and close to my face, his wings flapping wildly, his eyes were a bright yellow and his squawking beak was wide open. I could see his pink tongue lolling in his mouth as he threatened me. I picked up a few stones and threw them at him to make him fly away. I didn’t hit him with the stones, and this futile gesture only managed to infuriate the bird. I picked up a stick and waved it at him, trying to keep him away from me and my small dog. This too only perturbed the bird him more. My dog and I ran to our door. My hand was shaking as I put the key in the lock and unlocked the front door. Once the door was open, my dog and I both jumped into the house, and I slammed the door shut behind us. I was somewhat paralyzed with fear each time I considered leaving the house. My fear and paranoia were very Hedren-Hitchcockian.

A few months ago, we received a warning at school that an aggressive seagull was attacking staff in the parking lot. I didn’t enter that end of the building and I didn’t understand how aggressive these birds can be and found the memo warning to staff quite amusing. In May, the postman of our cul-de-sac refused to deliver mail to our houses because he was being attacked by a seagull. Again, I wondered how bad it could be. When that same bird later attacked me, I had my answer. It was very bad indeed.  

This gull hurls its entire body mass at my head. As I walked back to school one day in June, it swooped down and pecked my skull. It felt like a boulder hitting my head, and he drew blood. They do have facial recognition like ravens. They must. This was the gull’s act of vengeance for me reacting to him in anger the previous week. After he ripped open my skull, I screamed some profanities as one would if one had just been viciously pecked by a seagull. My 90-year old neighbour was in her front garden. With well placed expletives I shouted to her, “That #$%^*&* bird pecked my #$%^*&* head! I’m #$%^*&* bleeding!”  My elderly neighbour’s face told me that she was shocked at my profanity. I certainly was deeply ashamed of my profanity, but I was in shock.

I called Scotland Wildlife to report it. They called me back when I was in class. It was my NAT 5 Higher’s class (age 17). The kids were working so I described my contentious relationship with the seagull to Scotland Wildlife over the phone while in class. Scotland Wildlife listened sympathetically but suggested I leave the street a different way rather than walk past their nest. I wondered what part of cul-de-sac was baffling Scotland Wildlife. There was only one way in and out of the street and that was to walk past that nest. They suggested I walk in the middle of the road. I explained I was already doing that and it was in the middle of the road that I was being attacked by the mad bird. When I got off the phone, my students asked me about it. I told them what had happened, and they were in hysterics.  They told others within the school and my students from other classes soon asked me about the seagull attacking me. One of my students told me he’d come and kick a football at it and kill it. He could too. He has quite the powerful kick. I considered it.

On the last day of school, I had to carry home a few bags. I put up my umbrella to protect myself from the bird as advised by Scotland Wildlife (‘Wear a helmet or use an umbrella’).  It would still dive bomb my umbrella. They are really huge, and it is terrifying to have this thud bounce off your umbrella. That last day, it followed me to my door and squawked in my face. I screamed in fear and actually cried. I had to go back to the school for more of my things. I was terrified to walk past him again. I put up my brollie and ran for the school. At school, I tearfully asked a custodian to drive me to my house, which  is literally at the corner of the school. I was sobbing about this bird terrorizing me. She got permission to leave the school to bring me home. I felt so foolish but I was panic-stricken.

I told Scotland Wildlife that if I were still in Canada, I’d call a few of my cowboy or Indian friends and tell them to bring their guns and we’d shoot the seagulls off the roof and bake them in a pie. He told me that if anyone touches a bird even in self defense, it is a hefty fine in the thousands of pounds and some jail time. I think 1-2 years. I said, “Why? They are not endangered? They are next to school and a vulnerable group.  They could peck a child’s eye out. They are dirty scavengers and a public menace.” He didn’t care. He just told me to wear a helmet or carry an umbrella, but not to hit the gulls with said umbrella. Copy that.

I told him that I had lived 12 years in Canada’s north with bears, bison, lynx, mountain lions, moose, beavers, and deer and I had never been attacked, stalked and terrorized by wildlife until I moved here. The gall of these gulls is something I have never experienced before. I now hate all birds. Yes. All birds.

A week after that gull attack, I became very ill for three weeks. I had a sore throat, and a seeming cold that hung on for almost a month. I vomited. I had chills. My left hand spasmed and the right side of my face twitched. I developed a cough that would not stop despite cough syrup and lozenges. There may be no connection to the seagull attack, but seagulls are the scavengers of the sea. I feel certain that the filthy mouth of that bird passed some infection through the broken skin of my skull when he pecked me though I disinfected that area of my head after the attack.