Debra
09-29-2013, 10:13 PM
By Marguerite Floyd
WHAT IS the matter with you parrot people?
That's how I was thinking of starting this column, but instead I decided on something a bit more subtle. Like, "What peculiar traits do parrot owners share?"
Because, let's face it, parrot people are weird. Now don't deny it or send me indignant notes about how normal you are - you're not fooling anyone. Think about it: When a normal person brings a pet such as a dog or a cat or a goldfish into their homes, they continue to lead normal lives. They socialize with other normal people, they continue to listen to the same types of music, read the same types of books, eat the same types of foods as before. You, my parrot-afflicted friend, do not.
So how odd are you? Let's make a list!
You are a scholar of psittacinism. You scour the Internet and bookstores for research material on parrots. You join discussion groups and share in agonizing detail each tiny movement of your parrot with other parrot owners, who then share a more-than-unusual interest in everyone else's parrot's poop. In fact, poop now occupies so much of your thought and free time that you have lost interest in politics, career, and IRA earnings.
You have begun avoiding normal people, because your parrot seems to have taken a dislike to normal people. This includes your spouse. When he (or she) walks into the same room as you and your bird, there is obvious resentment at the intrusion. However, you are trying to stop reacting this way.
You eat parrot food. That is, you have taken to eating the special healthy people food you fix for your parrot. It's so much easier than separately preparing the usual junk for yourself. This is, in general, a good thing. (Just remember to avoid the birdie bread you made with Harrison's.)
You have rearranged your furniture to accommodate your bird and future birds. If you are severely afflicted, you have bought a new house especially designed for parrotly needs, including vaulted ceilings, screened-in porches and rooms with drains in the floor.
You buy only healthy and interesting pet toys that cost the equivalent of two months' salary and can be destroyed by a beak in five minutes. You ask store clerks questions such as, "Is the dye on this wooden block human grade?" and "What types of chemicals were used to treat this suede strip?" and "Where can I find your organic, preservative-free unshelled imported almonds?"
You make your own bird toys. Sometimes you do this even when you can find bird toys you like. "My toys are cheaper to make, or more interesting," you tell yourself. And then you set up an Internet store or auction site to sell your toys. You use your other talents For the Good of Parrots. You make quilted cage covers, human clothing protectors, jewelry designed to be worn by humans and chewed on by parrots, paintings of parrots, key chains engraved with the parrot's name.
Parrots are the dominant species on earth and they are simply using us to perpetuate their race and eventually take over. If you doubt that, just remember that it's the dominant creature who gets other creatures to take care of it. Think about all you do for your bird, the hours spent cleaning his cage, cleaning the floor, cleaning the food and water dishes, cleaning the bird toys, cooking food, cleaning the walls of said food, bandaging your skin from the latest nip. Then think about how you sit down exhausted and feel grateful and honored to look upon his pampered plumage and big dark eyes.
This is not normal. You'll never see a dog person made misty by the beauty of their pet slowly lifting its leg.
I say it's high time we parrot people reclaim our lives and save the human race from certain demise. Be strong - it won't be easy or done quickly, but by acting together we can thrive as a species again.
I'll be right there with you, just as soon as I finish sewing this bird cosey and taking the pellet casserole out of the oven.
Marguerite Floyd is a hospital documentation manager, but considers her real job to be bossee of two cockatiels, Sugar Franklin and Flash, and a 3 1/2-year-old brown-headed parrot named Charli.
ParrotChronicles.com. Published 2003.
WHAT IS the matter with you parrot people?
That's how I was thinking of starting this column, but instead I decided on something a bit more subtle. Like, "What peculiar traits do parrot owners share?"
Because, let's face it, parrot people are weird. Now don't deny it or send me indignant notes about how normal you are - you're not fooling anyone. Think about it: When a normal person brings a pet such as a dog or a cat or a goldfish into their homes, they continue to lead normal lives. They socialize with other normal people, they continue to listen to the same types of music, read the same types of books, eat the same types of foods as before. You, my parrot-afflicted friend, do not.
So how odd are you? Let's make a list!
You are a scholar of psittacinism. You scour the Internet and bookstores for research material on parrots. You join discussion groups and share in agonizing detail each tiny movement of your parrot with other parrot owners, who then share a more-than-unusual interest in everyone else's parrot's poop. In fact, poop now occupies so much of your thought and free time that you have lost interest in politics, career, and IRA earnings.
You have begun avoiding normal people, because your parrot seems to have taken a dislike to normal people. This includes your spouse. When he (or she) walks into the same room as you and your bird, there is obvious resentment at the intrusion. However, you are trying to stop reacting this way.
You eat parrot food. That is, you have taken to eating the special healthy people food you fix for your parrot. It's so much easier than separately preparing the usual junk for yourself. This is, in general, a good thing. (Just remember to avoid the birdie bread you made with Harrison's.)
You have rearranged your furniture to accommodate your bird and future birds. If you are severely afflicted, you have bought a new house especially designed for parrotly needs, including vaulted ceilings, screened-in porches and rooms with drains in the floor.
You buy only healthy and interesting pet toys that cost the equivalent of two months' salary and can be destroyed by a beak in five minutes. You ask store clerks questions such as, "Is the dye on this wooden block human grade?" and "What types of chemicals were used to treat this suede strip?" and "Where can I find your organic, preservative-free unshelled imported almonds?"
You make your own bird toys. Sometimes you do this even when you can find bird toys you like. "My toys are cheaper to make, or more interesting," you tell yourself. And then you set up an Internet store or auction site to sell your toys. You use your other talents For the Good of Parrots. You make quilted cage covers, human clothing protectors, jewelry designed to be worn by humans and chewed on by parrots, paintings of parrots, key chains engraved with the parrot's name.
Parrots are the dominant species on earth and they are simply using us to perpetuate their race and eventually take over. If you doubt that, just remember that it's the dominant creature who gets other creatures to take care of it. Think about all you do for your bird, the hours spent cleaning his cage, cleaning the floor, cleaning the food and water dishes, cleaning the bird toys, cooking food, cleaning the walls of said food, bandaging your skin from the latest nip. Then think about how you sit down exhausted and feel grateful and honored to look upon his pampered plumage and big dark eyes.
This is not normal. You'll never see a dog person made misty by the beauty of their pet slowly lifting its leg.
I say it's high time we parrot people reclaim our lives and save the human race from certain demise. Be strong - it won't be easy or done quickly, but by acting together we can thrive as a species again.
I'll be right there with you, just as soon as I finish sewing this bird cosey and taking the pellet casserole out of the oven.
Marguerite Floyd is a hospital documentation manager, but considers her real job to be bossee of two cockatiels, Sugar Franklin and Flash, and a 3 1/2-year-old brown-headed parrot named Charli.
ParrotChronicles.com. Published 2003.