The Birds

We looked out of the window in the family room this morning, and there were the juncos, back again. They come every year, in a flock, and feed down below the house by the fuschias and rhodendrons, and in the roses just outside the window. We get to watch them for about fifteen minutes, and then, as suddenly as they came, they go again. They will appear every day at about the same time for awhile, and then we won't see them again for another year. A few stay around all of the time, but only a few.
We used to have a bird feeder hanging from a limb on the apple tree, and then one day we saw a big river rat eating out of it. He sat calmly on a branch, his long tail hanging down and swinging back and forth now and then. He looked defiantly at us from his perch, and even though we shouted at him and banged on a pail, he wouldn't move. Bill finally poked at him with a broom and knocked him off the tree into the rose bushes. We took down the bird feeder and put it in the garage.
Why does the sight of a rat or mouse strike such terror in our hearts? They actually make good pets and are surely more afraid of us than we are of them. I think it is that long, naked tail that so repels us. Anyway, we never saw him again. There are towhees, robins and juncos in the neighborhood, but we have only seen the juncos so far.