Looking back at my childhood out in the country, I’m always amazed at my parent’s leniency towards the dozens of critters I kept in our house. Some came from the pet store, the hamsters, parakeets, fish and anoles. While others were simply snakes, lizards, frogs and other such creatures I captured outside. Ironically, I can no longer stand the smell of hamster sawdust and I cringe when I think about having an indoor critter in my own clean house.
My parents suggested I write down the story of my two parakeets who met their untimely deaths in a manner that is both messed up and ironically funny. I should start by saying, we lived out in farmland and both my parents were raised with more of a farmer’s mentality towards pets.
I begged my parents all year long for a parakeet. They finally gave in and bought me this gorgeous little blue bird who I named, “Freedom.” She wasn’t very friendly. She wouldn’t allow me to touch or hold her. She got loose on more than one occasion, flying about the house as our entire family tried to catch her. We finally clipped her wings and it took both my parents holding her down with scissors as she bit their fingers. Meanwhile our cat, our huntress, was licking her lips while watching our family and the bird from the window.
Our cat who was an outside cat, was all of a sudden taking an interest in coming inside. We thought she was just being friendly. We didn’t realize she had a devious plan up her furry sleeve. One day, we left and were gone the entire day. Our cat sneaked in the house without our knowledge and hid. We came back to find in horror that the entire bird cage had been knocked over. Everything from food to the newspaper lining was spread across the floor. There is a splatter of blue feathers and my cat is sitting proudly on the kitchen floor, licking her lips with a tail feather sticking out of her mouth. I’m crying and screaming at the cat and my parents and working overtime to not laugh inappropriately at the entire murder scene.
Years later when I was in high school, I had another blue parakeet whose name I can’t remember. Her cage was on top of our entertainment system with a small fish bowl next to it. She was an extremely smart and friendly little bird. She knew how to lift the lid of her cage up and fly out to greet us. Sometimes, she would perch on top of the fishbowl and watch our goldfish swim around. We finally had to start tying her cage door down so she wouldn’t escape. One morning as she came out to greet us, we forgot to tie her lid shut before work and school. We came home about eight hours later to find her missing. As we are observing her empty cage, our eyes drift to the fishbowl. There she is lying dead, floating in the water. That stupid bird fell in and couldn’t get out.
I was severely disappointed but my mom on the hand, couldn’t contain herself. She started laughing almost to the point she couldn’t control it. Totally inappropriate but now that I’m older, I get it. She passed down to me the gift of inappropriate laughter.
So now that I’m a parent and my kids start begging me for a pet, I’m reluctant. Between the smell of the cages and the dismal memories, I’m not sure that’s a road I want embark upon. Oddly enough, my parents find all my critter stories heart-warming. I think that’s the gift of parenting…you look back at all those memories with laughter!
I had a beta. I’d trained it to follow my finger around the bowl. We kept her in the bathroom because my roommates cat had taken a major interest in the fish bowl. When we left we were supposed to close the bathroom door so that Henry would leave the fish alone. One day after work I come home, open the front door and see rocks… Following the trail of rocks I find the water, the bowl, and Henry licking his paws. Poor fishy. Lol
Oh no! What a great story. Thanks for sharing! Poor Beta!