I'm sure they have rules against this kind if thing, but I placed some bread out on the balcony during the blizzard and am currently delighted by the birds that have discovered it.
It took a while for them to find it. I don't think they're used to handouts around these parts. Not because people don't care, but because if people were to put bird feeders on their balconies, we'd all be awash in caca. But this one time can't hurt.
Along the same lines, I've found some fine furry programming that helps me while away the job-searching hours. Animal Planet has surpassed VH1 as my favorite time-wasting channel (which speaks volumes about my worldliness and sophistication. Meh). I'm quite taken with Emergency Vets (ER...for animals!) and Animal Precinct (COPS...for animals!). I like That's My Baby as well, but were I to watch it regularly it would amount to two hours a day of watching farm animals and Sea World denizens give birth, and there's something inherently wrong with that.
My favorite show has to be a program that looks as if it wandered away from Brooklyn cable access and found its way into syndication on Fox. It airs Sunday mornings and is called Pet Shop, and features this doofus giving pet advice while surrounded by MORE ANIMALS THAN YOU CAN SHAKE A STICK AT. There's giant bunnies mingling with prairie dogs and parrots and puppies and cats and hamsters and two extremely wound-up chinchillas and ferrets and crows, all sitting on a space the size of an office desk. I don't know what the hell he's talking about half the time. That's not the point. If you do find yourself awake on a Sunday morning, give it a look. You won't be sorry.