One Bird's Poop, Is Another Man's Mess

So, as usual, I am minding my own business, learning Mandarin on the computer with my headphones on, when Eddie (my new familiar name for Edgar), does his business while perched on my shoulder. This means his business is probably now sitting somewhere on my shirt. I haven't looked, yet. Of course, you can't really blame Eddie. He's just doing what a bird naturally does. Having a bald head, I don't want to add more stress to his life. He might lose more feathers. He looks funny enough as it is. Sshh. Don't tell him. It might make him feel bad.
Birds are very different from people. Birds live more by instinct, while we, who believe we are so much smarter, like to believe we live by using our intelligence. As one scientist and author once said, If any aliens (life forms, or alien people, if you will, from another planet or galaxy) came to Earth looking for intelligent life, they would be very disappointed.
Sometimes I wonder, if maybe, the animals should be in charge of the planet. I think they would do a much better job of taking good care of it, as well as, protecting it from insane creatures, such as ourselves.
But, to get back to the original problem, I guess I better go see about cleaning up some bird poop. I don't hold it against Eddie. He is wonderful company, and also a very entertaining little guy, upon occasion. I think that's worth a little cleaning up after, now and then. In the next life, if he is taking care of me, I would hope he wouln't mind doing a little cleaning up of my little messes. I think it would be only fair.