I had to pick up a small dead bird today–it had taken seed from the feeder on my porch, turned and slammed into my front window. It’s happened a few times, even though I no longer keep that window squeaky clean, put out decals to help the birds to see. Still, did my “feeding disorder” do more harm than good?

My husband came up with the name for my disorder–the urge to over-feed people at gatherings, my fear of running out of food (not for myself, but not serving enough to others), my urge to over-feed him, to feed squirrels & racoons & birds.

One summer we discovered we’d developed an eco-system in our back yard. The bird feeder attracted pigeons. The pigeons attracted hawks and owls. The hawks and owls attracted coyotes and foxes. And, on it goes.

I’ve dialed back slightly, putting out bird feeders and hummingbird feeders only when it’s too cold for birds to find food easily, putting any squirrel food far from the house, and hopefully feeding myself and my husband only what we need.

Another way to use a feeding disorder–Food Bank of the Rockies & No Kid Hungry.