A New Resident on My Property

So now I have an owl. He sits in the ash tree that hangs over my front walkway. Here's what he--cute little guy that he is--has meant to my life.

•  The sparrows who have and raise up their babies in the bird house on my back deck are out of here. Quit their nest building mid-task. And they are nowhere to be seen, not on my deck, not in the backyard trees, not on my porch or flower pots.
• No robins or starlings peck around the yards.
• Flickers and quail I occasionally see in the neighborhood, but not at my place.
• I hear no finches outside my writing room window.
• The mourning doves have quieted and do not sit on my roof.
• Squirrels are scarcer. I'm not weeping over it.
• I heard the owl calling in the early dark one morning, no doubt signaling these other animals to stay clear of his territory.
• I have told him this is my house. I know he heard me because he was looking right at me.
• I have to wash and scrub the front walkway daily. And for a little owl, I mean, he is a cute little owl, he leaves a lot of stuff. Large splatty poops and small brown bundles of regurgitated animal parts. Did you want to know about that?
• The other day, when I turned on the sprinkler to wet down the place and start my scrubbing, he watched the water move across the lawn.
• I do not yell at him. Not yet, at least.

I like him and I don't like him.