Author’s Note: Dear Readers, this will be my last post until Sunday, July 10. Next week I’m having the first of two cataract surgeries and I don’t want the pressure of being Mr. Magoo and having to type on a keyboard. Wish me luck and hope all of you all have a Red, White and Blue Fourth of July.
And now a very belated Congratulations to the NHL’s Pittsburgh Penguins. Champions of the 2016 Stanley Cup. What a season! What a cliffhanger of a finish. Great, great hockey.
The Penguins’ big victory got me thinking about birds and that got me reminiscing about this…
When he was ten, my son, Nick, longed for a parakeet. For months he carefully studied all the candidates the Wilmette Pet Center had to offer.
Each week he would scrutinize the birds for color and personality. Dollars were dutifully saved and finally, the great day arrived when Nicky triumphantly pointed to a dapper specimen with a lemon-colored head and bright green body.
Money exchange hands and the bird was boxed for the ride home.
Nicky was bursting with plans, dreams and career goals for his protege. With a BIG future in mind, he christened the parakeet “Elvis.”
We went up to Nicky’s room and I got the cage out.
As a former owner of Pete the parakeet (when I was about eight) I wanted to make the delicate transfer maneuver from the box to the cage.
But Nicky begged.
“Please, Mom, let me do it. He’s my bird and I want to do everything right from the start.”
I good-naturedly gave in to his demands and handed him the box with Elvis in it and the empty cage.
But, as Nicky tried to put the bird in his new home, the parakeet wriggled out of his newbie grasp and in a blind panic, flew around the bedroom.
Right into the wall.
Dazed and stunned, the bird let us pick him up and place him in the cage. That ‘thunk” when he hit the wall had sounded ominous so we watched him closely.
Elvis looked ok when we covered his cage for the night.
In the morning, Elvis had left the building.
Nicky was beside himself.
The shock- it had all happened so fast- the excitement of the car ride home, the joyful christening, the careful preparation of the new cage, and then, the mad dash for freedom ending with fatal results- had completely unnerved him.
“I killed Elvis, Mom,” Nicky sobbed. “I let him escape and now he’s dead and it’s my fault.”
“No, Nicky. It was an accident. You didn’t hurt him on purpose.” I tried over and over agin to console him but I wasn’t much help.
Poor Elvis.
Poor Nicky.
Poor Mom.
An hour later Nicky was still wiping the the tears away as he ran for the school bus. Klara, our housekeeper, was heartsick, too.
“Elvis was so cute,” she sighed. “And I’m worried because Nicky is so sad.”
(Here’s Klara last October fussing over my grandson, Sam- The Next Generation.)
It was raining but I went downstairs for a shovel.
“Come on,” I called to Klara. “We’re going to give Elvis a great funeral!”
We buried him in the woods of our backyard in a small hole lined with rose petals. During the nondenominational service, we praised his good looks and his fierce dedication to freedom.
We concluded the ceremony by singing “Born Free” and “Rockin’ Robin.”
We covered the little grave with leaves and more roses, and we made a marker so Nicky could visit it when he came home from school.
But the empty cage still sitting in Nicky’s room look so forlorn.
I hightailed it over to the pet store to replace the late Mr. Presley.
The friendly salesgirl remembered me.
“Weren’t you in yesterday?” she asked.
Feeling every inch a bird murderer, I related the sad tale of Elvis’s untimely demise and explained, that even no other bird could ever take his place in our hearts, I wanted to buy a new bird for my genuinely grieving son.
“I’m going to get the manager,” she said.
“Please don’t.” I was embarrassed. “I just want you to help me pick out a parakeet with similar markings.”
But over my protests she found the manager and explained that Nicky’s bird had died after only one day.
She listened carefully
“How old is your boy?” Barbara, the manager, asked kindly.
“He’s ten and he’s so upset,” I answered.
“Of course he is and I can well understand it. Please take a new bird at no charge.”
Now I was really mortified.
“I can’t do that,” I protested. “It wouldn’t be right. It’s wasn’t your fault. We were careless and the bird had an accident. Please let me buy another one.”
“No,” she stood firm. “You must have another bird immediately.”
Then she handed me her card and said, “Tell your son if wants to talk about the accident or discuss his worries or concerns about the new bird, he can call us any time or come in. We’d be glad to counsel him.”
I was deeply touched by her compassionate response to our family crisis. I gratefully picked out a new bird and walked out of the store.
When I got back home. the rain had stopped and I could have sworn that I heard “Blue Suede Shoes” somewhere up above me.
Hi Ellen, you and your readers might enjoy watching this short video clip in honor of your favorite hockey team, and try this highly relevant crossword puzzle which will let you know what to look forward to with your cataract surgery. Good luck with everything, and “seeya” on the other side of Independence Day.
Thanks so much for my get well gift. Only you could have found that clip! And I look forward to doing the puzzle when I can see clearly. And congrats to you and MAS on yesterday’s LA Times puzzle. Nice going, Doc.
I guess the Geneva Convention continues to bring
peace to a hectic existence. Good luck
with the surgery. Can’t wait to see the results
when you can order like a pro. Peace and
Love
Me, too. Bless you my friend. Can’t wait to see how handsome you are. 😎
First- good luck with your surgeries-I’m sure you’ll do fine. Then what a touching story & what a wonderful gesture the pet store owner did. Don’t see that happen often. Take care looking forward to your return.
Thank you so much, Lynn. Really appreciate your kind thoughts. And yes, the manager of the pet store was so thoughtful. The ultimate in customer service that day.
Will be looking for your return.
http://visionsource.com/site/assets/files/1192/free_eye_chart.pdf
May you read this clearly
Thanks, my friend. After the surgery I really be able to see how young and good-looking you are.
It was really nice that the store owner didn’t just flip you the bird. But it does make sense that you got another one because then you truly had a pair-a-keets.
You know, instead of going to the store where you got it, you might have gone down to Birdland with the Manhattan Transfer (www.youtube.com/watch?v=0jmUdpcq07k) because in Birdland everybody knows that the bird is the word (www.youtube.com/watch?v=aPrtFxd9u9Y)
The other positive thing that came from this episode that Nicky should feel great about is that it was the inspiration for Bye Bye Birdie!!
You did it again! Very, very punny, Steve. You are the (Bird) man.
Good luck with your surgeries!! Hope all is pretty much done with your Mom.. Hope to SEE you soon to plan that reunion!! I m sure all will go well. Wonder if they have those big dark glasses you have to wear in a designer style???
Thanks, Elken. No need for those ugly glasses. I’m wearing my Own pair and they look swell. Now that I can see much better, hope to see you soon.
Hi Ellen, sounds like one down and one to go. If so, good luck with #2 (and 1 if still coming). (No need to print this or reply.). 💋💋Nancy
Thanks, Nancy. You’re right. Hoping the second op will go as well as the first. Hope to see you at something fun soon.
Cataract surgery – the easiest surgery I’ve ever gone through. Piece of cake! I have no doubt it will go well for you. The only hassle I experienced was putting drops in my eyes daily. I’ve never been good at that kind of thing in the first place. I was back on the Internet the first night after the surgery. I look forward to your return.
Bless you, Susan. Great to (almost)read. 😎
You will love your new view of the world…. It is like when Dorothy entered Oz and everything was in color.
Thank you, Vivian. I’m so excited! Can’t wait to see Eagle River and all the Kramers in living color.
First Ellen, good luck with the cataract suguries, it’s amazing how common they are now (thank goodness!). I don’t know a lot about the medical details, but in my area, they (due to an abundance of caution, not one of scheduling!) do only one eye at time… to make 100% sure of no complications. Your
mention of Mr. Magoo reminds me of that wonderful cartoon, which may alas, today be considered “insensitive”, IMO, somewhat unjustifiably so… since it was done with such great affection.
Secondly, your budgie story really hit (sorry for the verb) close to
home. For as you probably know, budgies are highly intelligent birds and bond very closely with their “owners” (I hate using that word, BTW).
We have had several Budgies (two at present: Jill and Timmy… right now, both happily chirping away as I type!). But our first, several years ago, “Pumpkin” was a truly wonderful little guy. We had him for over 2 years before he died of a tiny brain tumor, which sent the poor animal into spasms. In the end, he couldn’t perch propertly, so I redesigned his cage with very low perches and supports, to make sure that he could feel like a proper bird. Once robbed of their perching, they lose the very essence of what makes them a bird. Of course, I’m no expert, but I think I am right.
The vet assured us that when Pumkin had convulsions, he was temporarily unconcious, and therefore not (overly) suffering. Of course the final convulsion came, and we buried poor little pumpkin on the large property that my parents own out of town.
Apparently the main reason for premature budgie deaths (within the first 2 years), is about 99% caused by the “breeders” who have caused almost all of this, due to careless, or worse, deliberate inbreeding. But we, as humans, apparently prefer the pretty colored feathers over the animal’s health [emoticon deleted!].
Sorry for my mini tirade! 🙂
-Martin
No need to apologize, Martin. Worth it to have the word “budgie” appear any where in the post. It tones it up. Thank you.