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Polly mutters
Jul. 21st, 2005 07:53 pmSome people foster children. Others foster a dog or two. We are fostering a parakeet. She was called something unpronouncable when she joined our family, and for some reason, the name Polly stuck from the moment I mentioned that to me, she looked like a “Polly”. The second last paragraph was not written by me. Oh no. It was written by Sara, she_who_screeches_well. *Hmph*. She just said she's gonna comment on that. I'm scared now...
Polly mutters
Well, let me tell ya, I don’t know what’s worse. First, I was with them crazy boys, they run the local chips stall and had me on display and every Tom, Dick and Harry stopped by, whether they bought something or not, just to stare at me, and some of them made stupid comments, like, Oh, that’s a nice bird you got here. Does he talk?. Well, let me tell ya, for starters, I’m not a “He”, I’m a “She” and just because I have feathers hiding my private parts, these idiots ignore the fact that I walk and climb regally around my pitiable cage, like no male could ever manage! And can I talk. Gimme a break! Just because I don’t talk in that despicable tone, in a voice that sounds like they’ve swallowed a cheese grater that got stuck half way down their throats, these dimwits doubt my ability to talk. I am female, therefore I screech.
Anyway, where was I... Oh yeah, then some guy turned up, well, two did, one fairly big and one fairly small. They didn’t speak in quite the same way as the others to each other, they surely didn’t have cheese graters stuck in their throats, but the big one sometimes did. So anyway, the crazy boys seemed to really like those two. The smaller one got friendly with the smallest of the crazy ones, and one day they insisted to give me to them, because the small one of the different lot seemed to like me. He gave me chilli seeds, and I really like those. So now I’m stuck, no longer with them crazy boys, oh no. Instead I’m now with the Strange Ones who feed me chilli seeds. Like I said, they don’t speak in the same way as the crazy boys, nope, what they speak is commonly known as English, although the tall female one occasionally communicates in what they refer to as German or even French. Well, very occasionally French. It’s very educational here, I have to say. The smaller ones don’t seem to disappear to what the crazy ones referred to as “school”, nope, they’re always home, and they seem to do everything together. If one goes out, they all go out. The small male spends a lot of time playing with something he calls “Bionicles”. That is when he doesn’t talk to me, trying to make me talk. In English no less. He has to be joking. But then... He is male after all. And he is little, so he may be forgiven. He likes movies, too, whatever that means. But at least he doesn’t bother me when he does them movie things. The medium female, and believe me, I know she is female, for she knows how to screech. Yeah, her, she likes sitting in front of a box that shows colours that change really fast all the time. Would make me nervous that would, but then I’m a Female Parakeet, not some human chit of a girl. Although I must say, she screeches well. She would do well as a Parakeet, especially when she sits by that box, I think humans call it computer.
The tall male must have left, haven’t seen him in ages. He used to talk really nicely to me, I almost liked him. But then, it is not really in my nature to like anyone, especially humans. I must wrinkle my nose at the thought of humans. Stuck me in a cage, humans did. And now I can’t fly. Oh well, at least it’s entertaining here. The tall female, she’s quietened down a lot, since the tall male left, almost as if she misses him. Maybe she does, who am I to know, my grasp of the English language isn’t that great. But I’ve noticed that her face lights up when there is a ringing sound and she picks up some little box and speaks into it. She spends a lot of time sitting opposite me, by her “Apple”. It doesn’t look like an apple to me, it really doesn’t, and I hope to all Powers that she’ll never try and feed it to me! But she seems quite fond of her apple, so I think she might not be willing to share it, thank goodness.
Anyway, the medium female usually puts a towel over my cage in the evenings. Not that I sleep, mind you. She tries to convince me to go to sleep, pointing out it’s dark now, and birds go to sleep when it gets dark. So i answered her, not that she understood me, mind you, but I just couldn’t resist. “Who the heck can sleep in his house full of insomniacs?” I yelled at her, but she only laughed.
The medium one, who screeches well enough, pales in comparison to what the tall one did when the small one spilled funny little brown things called "Coco Pops" he was eating all over the floor near her Apple, the big apple that is. Wow, even a parakeet can’t do that. Her lungs must be huge. I have to say, I’m a bit in awe of her screeching ability. Wish I could have a voice that extended that far. Most impressive. Perhaps I can arrange for lessons.
They been talking about “going back”, whatever that means, but I’ve known right from the start that I would have to go back to the crazy boys. I’ll miss then Strange Ones, I think. But thankfully, parakeets are blessed with poor memory, so I’ll enjoy the crazy ones as if it’s an entirely new experience. Maybe I’ll remember some English words then. Haha, I have to rub my feet together in anticipation when some silly dunderhead comes to ask if I can talk and I’ll screech, in perfect English, of course, “Fuck Off”.
Polly mutters
Well, let me tell ya, I don’t know what’s worse. First, I was with them crazy boys, they run the local chips stall and had me on display and every Tom, Dick and Harry stopped by, whether they bought something or not, just to stare at me, and some of them made stupid comments, like, Oh, that’s a nice bird you got here. Does he talk?. Well, let me tell ya, for starters, I’m not a “He”, I’m a “She” and just because I have feathers hiding my private parts, these idiots ignore the fact that I walk and climb regally around my pitiable cage, like no male could ever manage! And can I talk. Gimme a break! Just because I don’t talk in that despicable tone, in a voice that sounds like they’ve swallowed a cheese grater that got stuck half way down their throats, these dimwits doubt my ability to talk. I am female, therefore I screech.
Anyway, where was I... Oh yeah, then some guy turned up, well, two did, one fairly big and one fairly small. They didn’t speak in quite the same way as the others to each other, they surely didn’t have cheese graters stuck in their throats, but the big one sometimes did. So anyway, the crazy boys seemed to really like those two. The smaller one got friendly with the smallest of the crazy ones, and one day they insisted to give me to them, because the small one of the different lot seemed to like me. He gave me chilli seeds, and I really like those. So now I’m stuck, no longer with them crazy boys, oh no. Instead I’m now with the Strange Ones who feed me chilli seeds. Like I said, they don’t speak in the same way as the crazy boys, nope, what they speak is commonly known as English, although the tall female one occasionally communicates in what they refer to as German or even French. Well, very occasionally French. It’s very educational here, I have to say. The smaller ones don’t seem to disappear to what the crazy ones referred to as “school”, nope, they’re always home, and they seem to do everything together. If one goes out, they all go out. The small male spends a lot of time playing with something he calls “Bionicles”. That is when he doesn’t talk to me, trying to make me talk. In English no less. He has to be joking. But then... He is male after all. And he is little, so he may be forgiven. He likes movies, too, whatever that means. But at least he doesn’t bother me when he does them movie things. The medium female, and believe me, I know she is female, for she knows how to screech. Yeah, her, she likes sitting in front of a box that shows colours that change really fast all the time. Would make me nervous that would, but then I’m a Female Parakeet, not some human chit of a girl. Although I must say, she screeches well. She would do well as a Parakeet, especially when she sits by that box, I think humans call it computer.
The tall male must have left, haven’t seen him in ages. He used to talk really nicely to me, I almost liked him. But then, it is not really in my nature to like anyone, especially humans. I must wrinkle my nose at the thought of humans. Stuck me in a cage, humans did. And now I can’t fly. Oh well, at least it’s entertaining here. The tall female, she’s quietened down a lot, since the tall male left, almost as if she misses him. Maybe she does, who am I to know, my grasp of the English language isn’t that great. But I’ve noticed that her face lights up when there is a ringing sound and she picks up some little box and speaks into it. She spends a lot of time sitting opposite me, by her “Apple”. It doesn’t look like an apple to me, it really doesn’t, and I hope to all Powers that she’ll never try and feed it to me! But she seems quite fond of her apple, so I think she might not be willing to share it, thank goodness.
Anyway, the medium female usually puts a towel over my cage in the evenings. Not that I sleep, mind you. She tries to convince me to go to sleep, pointing out it’s dark now, and birds go to sleep when it gets dark. So i answered her, not that she understood me, mind you, but I just couldn’t resist. “Who the heck can sleep in his house full of insomniacs?” I yelled at her, but she only laughed.
The medium one, who screeches well enough, pales in comparison to what the tall one did when the small one spilled funny little brown things called "Coco Pops" he was eating all over the floor near her Apple, the big apple that is. Wow, even a parakeet can’t do that. Her lungs must be huge. I have to say, I’m a bit in awe of her screeching ability. Wish I could have a voice that extended that far. Most impressive. Perhaps I can arrange for lessons.
They been talking about “going back”, whatever that means, but I’ve known right from the start that I would have to go back to the crazy boys. I’ll miss then Strange Ones, I think. But thankfully, parakeets are blessed with poor memory, so I’ll enjoy the crazy ones as if it’s an entirely new experience. Maybe I’ll remember some English words then. Haha, I have to rub my feet together in anticipation when some silly dunderhead comes to ask if I can talk and I’ll screech, in perfect English, of course, “Fuck Off”.
