Everyone … well, almost everyone … had a pet as a kid. In fact, I still have one. I call him, “Russ.”
Oh wait, that’s my husband. My pet is a dog named Corky Porky Pie and the Porky part fits well (the dog, not Russ). But I digress ....
When I was a teenager, I owned a parakeet named George. He wasn’t very bright. He once bit my uncle, who was trying to teach him to whistle. George subsequently picked up a few other names from my uncle that couldn't be repeated in polite company. When it finally dawned on us that “George” was a misnomer, we nicknamed him something more accurate—“That Stupid Bird.”
I also owned a cat. I should’ve named him, “That Stupid Cat,” but instead I called him Oedipus Rex. It was a dignified, grand name for a cat that we later realized liked to leave his calling card on every bush in the yard. Therefore, we shortened it (his name, not his calling card) to Eddie.
Eddie would sit in front of the birdcage every day, admiring George-That-Stupid-Bird and watching him for hours. Being a teenager with dreamy notions of romance, I thought Eddie was in love with his feathered friend, and that his attraction knew no bounds.
I had at least part of it right.
One day while doing homework in my bedroom, I heard George-That-Stupid-Bird kicking up a fuss, squawking and slapping his wings against the bars of the cage. Rushing into the room, I was greeted by feathers flying everywhere. Eddie was on top of the cage with a mouthful of tail feathers, tugging and pulling on the upside down George-That-Stupid-Bird in an effort to get him through the half-inch slats. It resembled something from the Saturday morning Looney Tunes.
I grabbed Eddie and bounced him up and down. Well, at least as much as possible without jerking the bird in his mouth through the cage’s bars. Finally, the cat let go of the bird.
End of story. So much for romance.
And there should be a moral to this tale, but I’ll be danged if I know what it is … unless it’s that a bird in the cage is more enticing than two in the bush.
What's playing in my head: The Looney Tunes Theme.
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8 comments:
You should have named them Tweety and Sylvester!
I once had a pet pig when I was a small child, but he ran away one hot June day. I remember we had a lot of ham and baccon that summer.
Thanks for a great blog.
LOL! That's so funny (although, not for the bird!) Please enter me in your puppet contest!
We have frequent escapees that visit our bird feeders. One looked like he had a top hat because his head feathers stood up. Probably too many love affairs with the cats makes one's hair (or feathers) stand on end.
Loved this one! I could just picture it like Sylvester and Tweety. I love Looney Tunes. :)
Cindy, I took your advice and put up that follower gadget.
My uncle had a parrot for many years. He taught it to say,"Here kitty, kitty, kitty." I'm not sure if they had a cat, or how long the cat lasted.
By any chance was George small and yellow? What about Eddie? Black and white with long whiskers?
Oh, hey, those two names work well together. Instead of Sylvester and Tweetie, at your house it was George and Eddie. Yep, that worked. I wonder what other shenanegens those two got into?
Fun story!
Nichole
Oh my I hope Eddie didn't eventually get hold of George??! :-0
I like your first name for your cat - Oedipus Rex. So unique and cool.
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