| Biographical Non-Fiction posted December 10, 2013 | Chapters: |
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final chapter on Donna's Bird House
A chapter in the book The Never Starting Story
Donna's Bird House, part 3
by michaelcahill
| Background Autobiographical. Includes poetry, essays and commentary on world and personal events. Anything is liable to turn up here. |
With Bird Walk and the brain surgeon behind us we concentrated solely on our little Pasadena business. We now competed with Petco and Petsmart and they couldn't hold a candle to our expertise in our specialty. When it came to the care of birds we had no competition.
Folks would still purchase small birds on sale at the mega-stores and then come to us for advice. We gave them advice and helped them as best we could. The birds from the larger stores lacked the quality of our hand-raised babies. A diet of seed alone equated to a human living on French fries. It would keep one alive, but it would not be a very healthy robust life.
Birds need fresh food as well as seed. Fruits and vegetables are as good for birds as they are for us. We introduced these food items to our baby birds and they left our facility completely familiar with them. Birds are creatures of habit and it is quite difficult to change their ways. A bird raised on seed is difficult to entice to a more healthy diet.
The right bird for the right family is another critical consideration. Each species has its own characteristics and behaviors. An aviary to look at and enjoy needs a nice collection of species that will get along and enjoy each other's company. An aviary full of brawling mismatched unhappy squawking combatants is not the most relaxing thing to contemplate.
A pet parrot is a very serious purchase. They enjoy life spans of great length. The larger species have a life expectancy comparable to our own. It is not a hamster that has at most three years to be concerned with. Or, even a dog that might live into its teens.
You are looking at decades with a parrot. Your pet parrot may very well outlive you. They have incredible intelligence and need constant stimulus and attention. They are very much like a young child. They are self-centered and smart.
Your parrot will not grow up, however. It isn't going to leave home and get a job. It certainly isn't going to take care of you when you grow old. Nope, you are acquiring a very smart child that will never grow up that seeks attention for as long as you live. That is what acquiring a pet parrot is.
Before Donna would let a customer purchase a parrot she would make sure they understood that fully. Yes, it did cost us some sales. But, we never had a customer bring a bird back saying they had made a mistake.
We slowly and miraculously moved into the black financially. We didn't by any means have a mountain of money to climb, but we paid our bills and had a nicely stocked store and a steady clientele. Growth became steady and solid. It reached a point where it appeared we might even be able to stay in business and retire comfortably one day.
This brings us to Christmas Eve of 1996. It had been out finest year to date. Christmas day would be the day folks would come in to pick up their Christmas layaways. We would not be open, but we would be there to complete the transactions for the Christmas birds and send them on their way to their new homes. There were quite a few. We would be in the best financial shape we had ever been in. It would be the best Christmas of our lives.
I arrived early Christmas morning and opened the front door and turned off the alarm system. It didn't take long to see that something had gone dreadfully wrong that evening. The cash register was open as were all of the desk drawers beneath it. Next I noticed that most of the cages had open doors and nothing inside of them.
A large salmon crested cockatoo named "Sprinkles" sat indignantly on top of a cage staring down at me. My wife's beloved pet bird "Seemore" sat defiantly in his cage. I noticed damage to his door where the burglars had tried to break into it. He had fought them off.
In the middle of all of that devastation I thanked God. "Seemore" had replaced Donna's beloved "Dodger" as her new child. I cannot guess the effect on her had he not been there. There were a few other birds that had escaped the burglar's clutches as well.
My little pet African grey "Doc" did her little disappearing act and they didn't see her in the corner of her cage. I always laughed that I had to look for her when she was actually sitting right in front of me. This time I cried.
"Polly" sat in his old antique cage undisturbed in the corner. Once again thanks to God went out. A loyal customer and friend named Sancho and purchased him in Mexico for fifty-cents thirty years ago. "Polly" had become his only companion in a large and lonely house. The thought of telling him that "Polly" had been stolen still gives me shivers to this day. Once again I thank God for sparing me that task.
The rest of the birds, and inventory retailing at over fifty thousand dollars, had all been stolen. We would never see any of them again.
One fingerprint implicated a suspect. He got off on a technicality and immediately flew back to his home country. I will never trust our justice system again.
I kept the doors open for another year with smoke and mirrors. Donna tried to put on the same brave optimistic brave face that I had. But, there is a point that stubborn becomes foolish. I crossed it. I didn't want to give up or give in.
That last year became a living hell of bill collectors and empty shelves. I tried to sell birds I didn't even have. I would attempt to get the money and then get the bird. Occasionally I did just that. But, not enough occasions to get anywhere.
Finally I closed the doors for good a little less than a year later.
I found that getting a job had become a difficult task for one my age. Apparently being in ones mid-forties is old when it comes to getting a job. I had to hound corporate headquarters just to get minimum wage job at PetSmart.
After ten years I had to crawl to the enemy and work under some twenty-four year old know-nothing for minimum wage. Oh well, that is what one does, when one wants to survive and eat and pay bills.
It wouldn't be long before I started writing music and poetry again. It had been over fifteen years since I had written anything, but a couple of tributes to lost pets, or pieces for friends that had requested them. I sang at a couple weddings.
I am told, that I occasionally had one too many and joined a couple bands on stage.
But, I can't imagine a shy little-boy, like me, would do such a thing.
The Purple Wisteria Vine
what if you didn't write a word
who would know
where wandering winsome wisps of song
once sought singing
that wisteria shed its leaves
for the longest winter it had known
a bundle of sticks clinging and clutching
collecting the sighs of passers by
they thought death had surely befallen
poignant and final
perhaps a wreath
the irony of honoring with color
where color once had been
but, spring arrives when hope has finally left
for surprise is half the fun
a little bud breaks a sticks dry shell
then a green hue…a leaf….ha!….another
did someone shout…..Purple!
weaving words wherever wandering wants
to go
I return
rescued from my own shadows perceived grasp
I finally set it free to run
it was I that grasped tightly
Included some information about parrots as requested by some. Still seeking suggestions. Any topic acceptable. This is an unformated book dealing with various subjects. It is in no particular order. World events or personal events. What would you like to hear about?
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