Do Hummingbirds burp?

I could become provoked shortly.

What wabbits do when provoked.


http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=x8haEEempUA

Chumly wrote:

Oh very much yes of course naturally so! Burping Hummingbird

I believe that film to be a tarradiddle and anti-hummingbird!


Debbickle, your link was instructive, but not pertaining to the question at hand....

dlowan wrote:

Chumly wrote:

Oh very much yes of course naturally so! Burping Hummingbird

I believe that film to be a tarradiddle and anti-hummingbird!


Debbickle, your link was instructive, but not pertaining to the question at hand....

It was informative, wasn't it? Whereas I knew birds were big on dining out, it never once occurred to me that they carry doggy bags. As to not being pertinent, well, don't you be impertinent. After all, it was you what raised the crops.

What does appear pertinent is that there is a whole body of literature, none of which comes to mind or to hand at present, which documents the fact that the class of things which creep, crawl or crap includes hummingbirds. Now your typical bird is not prone to creep or crawl, but I know by close observation that they do crap, and by implication, fart. It's only a slight directional shift to posit they burp, as well, or as little.

Moreover, hummers do not, to my knowledge, eat. They drink, lots, and not just in piffling sips; they use damn suction hoses. I have no firsthand evidence of their burpings; being such modest critters, they most likely emit them quietly and unto themselves, with no more sound than the popping of a champagne bubble.

So that's the situation in these parts during the months of summer; what these tiny dypsos get up to when they've buzzed off to scarf margaritas and other such southern comforts may be an entirely different can of worms, or whatnot. Big blowouts may well be the norm when the little farts are in Margaritaville; you know, changes in latitude, changes in attitude.

I was sitting in my rocking chair one day and I had my hummingbird hat attached to my head. Let me explain how my hat works: I took an old World War 1 helmet, drilled some holes in the front, back, and on the sides, and then attached eyebolts to each hole, from which I attached the hummingbird feeders.

I also have a gallon container, filled with beer that sits on a shelf above me, and a tube attached to that leads directly to my mouth. The beer is gravity-fed and I keep my tongue over the end of the tube until I want some beer. Then, I release my tongue, let my mouth fill up with the golden nectar, and place tongue over tube again, stopping the flow. By contracting my throat muscles and gulping (silently, as to not scare approaching hummingbirds) I can have a cool swallow of beer at any time. If I stay in my chair for several hours and find the need to go to the bathroom, I have another tube that leads to-- well, you get the idea.

Anyways, I was sitting in my chair one day, surrounded by hummingbirds, approximately six at each feeder, and I was paying close attention to one hovering at the left side of the feeder directly in front of me.

He was a beautiful bird with brilliant splashes of red and gold and a fantastic set of wings which were beating at somewhere in the neighborhood of fifteen percent faster than that of the other birds.

I sat there, sipping my beer and contemplating the reason his wings beat at such a remarkable speed, when suddenly he backed away from the feeding station and darted toward me in such a rapid motion that my eye was barely able to discern it, but... there he was, directly in front of me, hovering a mere three inches from my left eye.

I held my breath. He stared at me, his wings now moving faster than ever and actually causing air movement which cooled a patch of my skin directly beneath the eye and drying a tear which had began to form because of the sheer joy of what I was witnessing.

Then I noticed the bird's throat start to bulge a bit and suddenly his mouth opened wide and a burp of such magnitude was emitted that my head snapped back in surprise and, in the blink of an eye, the hummingbirds were gone.

The faint smell of the hummingbird burp lingered for a second and then that too was a thing of the past.

I had completely forgotten about that incident until I saw dlowan's query, and, to tell you the truth, until now I thought everyone knew that hummingbirds burped.

dlowan appears not as smart as I once thought she was.

Hummingbirds are the my most feared enemy of the lyricist.

It was the mystery "the" that threw me...

Just checkin' chum.

(I got some trumpet creeper goin' on, I like my birds...)

RH