Was setting the sprinkler before the sisters and I went to the post office when I heard the squabble. And knew exactly what it was.

A few of the cherries in the wife's 'dwarf' sour cherry tree started turning a little orange on Sunday. Here it is, three days later and the robins are already fighting amongst themselves over the berries (okay, they're not berries... they're drupes).

One even threatened me when I approached. Robins do love their cherries.

We used to cover this tree with a fine netting (no, not the commercial stuff you buy at nurseries... that tangles fruit, leaves, branches, buttons and kills birds, thank you very much). Wife made a large net out of yards of bridesmaid lace, which we used to roll up and put on the tree like a giant condom.

Have some fine memories of coming outside at midday in the summer to help the wife and the two little boys pick cherries. And some not so fine memories of hours and hours spent pitting those cherries.

And delightful memories of pies made with her cherries and my raspberries.

But when she went back to work, there was no time for picking and pitting cherries. And the robins have had them ever since.

Last year, I got one.

One lousy cherry.

Wouldn't have had that, but it was on the extreme end of a low branch, and no bird could figure out how to grab it and keep balance. Although we had one robin that knew how to fly up and pluck cherries off without ever landing.

So before we went to the PO, I picked three cherries for me. Tripled last year's harvest.

Just got back from moving the sprinkler. As I adjusted the water, a low-flying robin went whizzing by, bearing an orange sphere in its beak.

These cherries would get red, if given the time. But with the competition for food, nobody lets a cherry hang that long. Figure they have already removed between a quarter and a third of the cherries.

So I joined the fray. Found about a dozen that were barely edible (as in, orange on at least half). These things are tart when they're ripe; you should taste them now. Had to share the little tree with one die-hard Turdus (Turd, for short.) who would not leave.

Still got three pits swirling in my mouth right now. Need to go spit them out on the ground somewhere soon.

When I pruned the nearby gooseberry bush back last weekend, found several young Prunus trees growing. Looks like we may have an orchard in a few years.

No idea what species these things are, unfortunately. Could be anything from pie cherries to bing cherries to Rainier cherries (wonderul fruit, by the way) to apricot, plum, nectarine, peach, sloe or chokecherry. All the pits from these drupes just get pitched out in the garden, so I have no idea what's what.

Be happy with any of the above, but one has leaves that look exactly like the dwarf cherry. We are hopeful.

Anyway, the point of all this?

As I was making my final check on the sprinkler, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.

A robin. Hurrying down the sidewalk. On foot.

A robin waddling down the sidewalk, bloated full of stolen cherries.