Absurd Furred Birds

In my back garden the birds are absurd,
Instead of befeathered these birds are befurred.
You’d not say it was plumage that made up their coat,
More like something that you’d see on a stoat.

I’ve scoured each page of my bird-spotter’s book,
And I’m yet to establish their kind from their look.
They do not resemble a crow or a goose,
They’re more like half chaffinch, the other half moose.

What’s more they do neither a twitter nor chirp,
Rather a growl that is crossed with a burp.
It’s not the most pretty birdsong, I profess,
How they woo down a mate, well that’s anyone’s guess.

They struggle and strive just to flit here and there,
What with them not covered in feathers but hair.
Thus they never migrate to somewhere more exotic,
Though when you’re befurred you’ve no need for the tropics.