It's been too long.
Let's see, what has happened in the past while. Well, I returned from camping relatively unscathed except for a nasty sunburn that took a few weeks to heal. I was not eaten by bears. Apparently they don't find blond women with second degree sunburns full of blood containing a high alcohol content attractive. Quite honestly, I don't either. Not since the 90s anyway. I was eaten by the sun. Four hours in the middle of the lake on an inflatable party island (with drink holders enabling no contact between the shore and I) had left me with a second-degree sunburn from hell. I would have blogged about it, but I was feeling too damned sorry for myself.
The sunburn did eventually heal, and I returned to society. Life continued on as normal for a bit, I had gotten a baby budgie to immediately replace my other budgie that had passed away from old age. The new one was named Johnny, and he was only about 10 weeks old before he figured out how to push out his seed dish, lift a flap, and escape into the eager mouth of my west highland terrier named Molly. Of course he learned this new trick while we were all at work and school, and no one was around to stop the re-enactment of Wild Kingdom that went on in my living room. Johnny was reduced to a pile of feathers and a bit of blood on my terrier's face. Molly looked sheepish for one entire evening, and then promptly forgot by the next morning. There are no graphic and gory details, what remained of Johnny was similar to spontaneous combustion videos seen on television and youtube - a spot on the floor with feathers around it in a circular pattern with no trace of body, feet or face. She ate him entirely, which both horrifies me and I'm ashamed to say makes me feel a bit relieved that we didn't have Johnny bits left everywhere to clean up.
It became obvious to me that owning a budgie was no longer the responsible thing to do with a predator like Molly walking around. This was quite sad for me - I've had budgies for a long time, and quite like their chatter and friendly little natures. However having one in close proximity to a dog that doesn't see them as fellow pets is dangerous and really unfair to a little bird.
I was very sad. I didn't know what to do - never have a bird again? I love birds. I love their inquisitive little faces, their noises, their cheap and cheerful lifestyles.
SO, I got a BIGGER bird! A big cockatiel named Lola that didn't have the best life when I came across her. Feeling more than a little guilty about Johnny's life being cut tragically short, I overcompensated by rescuing a cockatiel and buying her a ginormous cage. I didn't do this alone, I totally consulted my 8 year old for advice. He agreed that a cockatiel was a fantastic idea. We kept quiet, drove my husband to work and dropped him off, and immediately set out to get a bird big enough for my dog to recognize her as a fellow pet and not prey. We picked up Lola (she didn't have a name yet) and brought her home. She was kept in a tiny cage, so we left her at home and went out and bought a new cage, toys, perches and food. I was well on my way to redemption.
There was only one thing left to do now that Lola was all set up in our house - explain her presence to my husband. I wasn't aware that he disliked large birds, the subject had never come up before I had gotten Lola. I kept her old cage so he could see what she was contained in when I got her, and appeal to him on an emotional level why I couldn't have just left her there, and how we could offer her a much better life. I nearly had him on my side as well, and then an ambulance went by - how was I supposed to know that Lola would scream when ambulances went by? And firetrucks? And police cars?
And ambulances, firetrucks, and police cars on television as well? And on the radio?
It has been a few weeks now and Lola has settled in nicely with our family. She still screams when various rescue vehicles go by, and we live next door to an ambulance hall, but other than that she is a perfect fit for our family.
Word of the day: Diaphanous
Used in a Sentence: "You couldn't have used a more diaphanous excuse for getting that bird" the husband told his wife angrily. "Perhaps," said the wife. "But if the dog eats this one I'm getting a goddamned turkey vulture."
