Freaking Birds

I hate birds. I know that is a very strong word but I actually hate them. They scare me to death and large groups of birds make me physically ill.
I have never liked birds but I think the hatred started when I was about eight years old. My family and I were staying in a cabin next to a small pond. They would stock the pond with trout so that you would be guaranteed to catch a fish as long as you had a pole. This also guaranteed flocks of birds would be filling the pond as well. At first it was funny watching the birds duck their heads under the water as their back feathers bobbed on the surface but the fun didn’t last for long. Thats when I met my mortal enemy. ‘Mama Duck’! She was a big fat duck with a large bun looking ball plopped on top of her head and she decided to get me. She started running at me full speed, wings out, bun flopping and quaking in a high pitch yell. I ran as fast as I could but I was no match for Big Mama. She caught up with me in no time at all and started pecking and biting and flapping all over me. The rest is a blur but I can remember enough to be traumatized for life.
I was sitting outside the other day drinking my coffee when I hear a loud bang behind me. I looked up towards the house and a dead bird fell right in front of me. I screamed at the top of my lungs and flew across the deck. I looked through the window to see my husband doubled over in laughter. Apparently a bird had flown into the window and then fallen right down to me. I was terrified. My husband was completely entertained. Yet again I have been traumatized by a freaking bird.