The F'ing Birds

Marcello's cousin Jose and his partner went to Brazil and asked us if we would bird-sit. Marcello said yes right away, I knew this meant I would be bird-sitting and not Marcello as they live well over an hour from us and I am the one not working. So I have been going every two days to clean up their bird poop, change the water, put in new bird seed, and tie other bird seed to their cage. One bird in particular has been a challenge as he keeps escaping and then I have to chase him all over the house.

Sunday when we left the Cape we stopped by together to care and feed them. When we left they all seemed happy. For some reason I forgot to go yesterday so last night at 7 I got in my car and headed over. Luckily their parents are coming home today. As soon as I walked in the house I felt like something was awry. I walked upsatirs to the freakish row of bird cages (a wisteria lane of feathers if you will), and noticed one bird was sitting on top of the cage. A quick head count later and I realized several had gotten out. How they did this I still don't know. Birds kind of freak me out. They are not cute. They are not cuddely. And they do not listen to you. Here I am, a big mary, running through the house with my index finger sticking out, hoping they willl just land on my had as they divebombed my head. After many many profanities, several lost feathers, and many beak marks later on my hand, all these feathered convicts were locked up. I wanted a cigarette when all was said and done. I threatened to smoke the birds if they mis-behaved again. I told Marcello, we are NEVER bird-sitting again.