I saw what looked like a bargain on the day-old stand at the supermarket. The loaf of bread was $2.69.  I’m thinking sandwiches. I toasted two slices and when I took them out of the toaster, most of the crust fell off along with plenty of crumbs on the kitchen counter. I tried buttering. The feeble slices tore apart. I didn’t give up.

I bit into a slice and it tasted like cardboard. Indeed, I knew now what I didn’t suspect at the super market. Old bread, even 24 hours old is duck food. I rescued the day by making French toast. The whipped eggs kept the slices together. I added powered cinnamon for taste.

Still I refused to admit defeat. I used two slices to make a sandwich. They both fell apart. I ate the cheese and meat alone. I had five slices left and thought about the gull squadron in the parking lot down by the bay. I parked in the center and waved the cellophane bag. Fifty herring and ringed-billed gulls arrived in less than 30 seconds. If I could only multiply these crumby slices so every gull had a shot just like Jesus with the fishes. I held out a slice and of course it fell apart. The scramble lasted 2 seconds. Three or four gulls acted as the cleanup committee after the lucky gull gulped almost the entire slice. If you are a gull, rule number one:  keep your eye on the prize and be lightning fast when the time comes.

I noticed that gulls don’t chew. They bite, peck, tear, shake, throw head up, and heave it back just like at a men’s bar when they chug down beers just like the gulls.

Gulls exhibit a life or death situation. Almost everybody has a gull story. Everybody has a food snatch story. Many rival NBA players stealing an opponent’s basketball. I watched one steal an entire bag of potato chips from right behind a sunbather. They know that competition is stiff and to the winner with the fastest reaction to the spoils. I knew I’m not supposed to feed wildlife and certainly these birds qualify. I looked around to see if any wildlife ranger watching. All clear.  I pulled out the second slice, this time holding it gingerly. I decided to tease them a little waving the slice to stir up frenzy. And so it was. Many birds took flight and stared at me right through the driver seat window. At this point, I started to feel guilty feeding these poor, hungry gulls crappy bread slices. But, they didn’t seem to mind. This was not a gourmet treat. There is a pecking order. I noticed some gulls in the back. They were watching. One tried to edge in and was quickly attacked. The young guys have yet to step up.

These gulls certainly acted like wildlife. Just some of their behavior includes wing flapping, aggressive moves such as squawks, lunges, and with bill toward the sky, loud shrill calls to declare that they are pissed off.

I used a Frisbee throw for the next slice. One gull actually caught in mid air and glugged it down. The cleanup crew was ready when a piece dropped off.

Slice #4 thrown in the opposite direction toward a younger bird. BOOM, it never had a chance. Swallowing isn’t the correct word, nor is gulped. It is a desperate, choke it down ASAP. Hey, you never know when your next meal will arrive. If only we could train gulls to do litter cleanup along roadsides, curbs, sidewalks etc. Think nor more garbage cans.

The gulls soon knew that I was out of food. I waved the empty cellophane bag in the air. By that time, they had flown back to the puddle to await the man who feeds them daily. I call him “The Wonder bread guy.”

For an observant naturalist such as me, gulls offer me a good opportunity to remember that we all have a tough road to hoe.