My past two mornings have been hellish enough to warrant any self-respecting mother to hit chocolate/marshmallows/swedish fish/drug of choice intravenously with zero shame or self-hate and loathing.
Just to recap: We have a cockatiel, his name is Mauricio. Mauricio came with the marriage license, he’s basically been around longer than I have – nine years at least. Back in 2002, this bird survived a 3-hour stint lost outside in the dead of winter, five days before Christmas. He got spooked off his cage, rounded the corner and up the short flight path to the open front door with three flight feathers each side. We eventually found him three blocks away in a tree in someone’s back garden. I will add that we had to cross a four-lane road to get to him. He was unhurt and fine, just frightened.
Fast forward to 2006. Ian was almost two and we’d just got home from his cousin’s fourth birthday party. Having placed his helium balloon in the house, accidentally scaring the bird off his cage, I went to retrieve Ian from the car. As the words “Careful! Birdie is on the floor” slipped out my mouth, his attention was broken by said helium balloon and he stomped after it gleefully, crushing Mauricio underfoot. He had a huge lump on his back next to his wings. Unknown to us, he had ruptured an air sac and barely escaped death. You may like to know that not only are very few vet offices open at an unearthly time of night, the number who see birds diminishes greatly. The closest vet he could go to was an hour away in Sandy, Utah. We were in Layton at the time (read: a different county entirely). With rest and minimal interaction, he recovered. If you really want to, you can read the full account here.
Months later, as Bryan was preparing to fix the car, the bird flew off his cage again, scared by the loud noise he’d heard coming from the garage, and flew out the door into the open garage. Luckily for us and him, he had dumbed down that day and landed on the window blinds adjacent to the open wide garage. He was retrieved again and life resumed.
Fast forward with me, if you will, to yesterday. The mobile/cell phone rings and I stumble to retrieve it past our carpet cleaner, vacuum and a few other tripping obstacles of choice. The bird, obviously flummoxed by something, decides to leave his safe haven on the cage and lands flat on his face on the floor – sans flight feathers.
These past few days, Toby has been given longer visitation rights throughout the house thanks to good behaviour.
With my back turned, I was oblivious to the bird’s new room perspective — that was until I heard the screeches. I bolted right to see the dog chasing the bird across the floor, millimetres from his teeth, feathers strewn in his path. As I scrambled to retrieve Mauricio, I screamed loud enough to draw attention from Alaska twice. Thankfully I was able to get to him before the dog did any real damage, but I had to pry the bird from under his front paws.
That was yesterday.
Today not long after Cameron woke me up at the crack of dawn (remember he can climb out of his cot/crib now), I took the dog out on his 30-foot leash to relieve himself – he told me his back teeth were floating and to get a bloody move on. Not twenty minutes later he was whining again.
He’s been really good this past week at doubling back when I shout come! if his attention is sparked from the front of the house. I will, however, note that I did NOT have treat in hand, and he knew it having come back to me twice.
Minutes after 8 o’clock, and as I stand there in our back yard fully dressed but unshowered and entirely disheveled, he decides to take for the hills at the sound of a car engine pulling into a driveway across the street and 300 feet from us. Knowing I am without treat, he ignores my pleas to come! and runs in the opposite direction directly into the path of not one, but two on-coming work-bound cars.
If you just said ‘you should have leashed him’, that’s the kind of fancy College talk that’ll get your head butted around here, pal.
I am not a morning person. I wouldn’t even be as bold to say I am a mid-afternoon snack person. I sped towards the oncoming cars (not in trainers/sneakers, mind you, but thankfully not in flip flops) knowing that they would have a better chance of seeing me coming than a small, speeding Cairn Terrier on an acid trip. He rounded her car five times making me flounce around like a beanbag with legs before she was able to move. I stand there, still dogless, completely helpless and muttering to myself. She made it about 40 feet down the street before she stopped again seeing the dog belt towards her at full non-human speed, opened her door and loving said “come here Toby, aww what a cute little thing you are–“. She then scooped him up as I sheepishly made my way to her door affronted and embarrassed with my tail between my legs.
The SUV behind her smiled at me and I half-grimaced back, hoping these poor women would never have to see the living dead gallop past their windscreens chasing a belligerent arsehat pooch again anytime soon.
Running theme? I think so. THE DOG.
Having made it thus far, you may be wondering the reasoning behind my sudden verbiage. Well, I am hoping that I can spread good karma across the blogosphere – pay it forward, if you will. Karma and I are planning on becoming good friends tomorrow morning.
So, without further ado, I present to you my very first awards ceremony. Having been given quite a few in my 3 years+ of blogging – two of them just last week – it’s about time I gave some back. Even if you’ve received it before, take it anyway you ingrate.
I pass this Excellent award to Aye Wonder, A Brit Out of Water, Mom or Mum Wars, Magneto Bold Too!, From The Planet of Janet, Burgh Baby, If I Could Escape, A Day in the Life…One Glass at a Time, Blok Thoughts, Mum of 4, Wundurful Wurld and XBox4NappyRash.
Thanks to Blok Thoughts for this one last week. I now bestow this award on: Seeking Sanity, Anglophile Football Fanatic, Momisodes, Let’s Go Away for Awhile, Big Apple Little Britainer, Just Chicken Feed, LongAyelander in Glasgow, Shamelessly Sassy, Twists and Turns of Life with Curls, Immoral Matriarch, Plain Jame, Playgroups Are No Place for Children and Secret Agent Mama.
I also got this award last week from Mumof4 and Blok Thoughts, so I’m passing it along to: Suburban Scrawl, Mocha Momma, Lilac Colored Glasses, A Calm in the Chaos, Lou Cee L, A Murder of Crows, Boss Sanders, ExPat Mum, If Mom Says OK, Jameil Et Cetera, Licensed to Blog, Glass Half Full and Synchronization of Us.
If I never have to link again in a single post, it will be too bloody soon. I love all of you. You complete me in so many ways. No really. Some make me think, others feed my soul, some tickle my fancy, and the rest of you make me chortle. If I have missed anyone, please feel free to cyber-slap me in the comments section.
P.S. Do you read a load of blogs like I apparently do? I highly recommend throwing yourself a frickin bone and utilising Google Reader or Bloglines or the like. While you’re at it, go ahead and subscribe to me, it’ll do wonders for my unswollen Scottish ego. Muah.