Friday, December 07, 2007

Elvis has left the Building

I'm caught in a trap....there's no way back


I was eating a late supper when the phone rang. It was Donna-da-Lodga's grandmother wishing parley with her grand-daughter.



Passed phone over and in moments her face fell and she started crying uncontrollably. Through the sobs she said 'when did you find him?'. I naturally thought she was talking about her grandfather. I was very concerned and offered her team and sympathy as one quite rightly would.
She finished the call and I said gently - 'was it your grandfather?'



'No', she sobbed. 'It's Elvis.'



'Elvis?? what, like in Graceland? And this has just reached you?'



'He's My Nan's budgie.'



'He's called Elvis??'



'Yes', she sobbed - 'I tamed him.'



'You tamed him? Was he Wild?' (he was probably livid - hat tip to Rowan Atkinson's Gerald the Gorilla for that gag)



'No, from when he was 7 days old. They are very timid when they are chicks and I taught him to like people. He's like a doggie to them. .



'What, they take him for walks?'



'No but they let him fly around the house.'



'On a lead?'



'You don't understand what it is to love animals like we do in my family - look at my sister's
love for her rabbit.' (Sister's rabbit has had a hysterectomy - how they worked out it was menopausal is beyond me - let alone the outpourings of grief attendant with the procedure)



The conversation tailed off at this point…as the futility of reasoning and rationality became obvious - as her love for the quadrapedical slobber machine that is her dog is evident so much that she feels the need to keep him cooped up all day, doesn't change his water, wash his dinner bowl between feeds and needs nagging to walk him daily.



A reprise to the conversation came this morning when she asked me what had happened to the butterfly which had taken up residence in the light fitting in the bathroom.



'Donna, I put him out of his misery'
Her face clouded, tears begin to well.



'Look, I picked him up, he had two legs left and a broken proboscis. Attempted to feed it with some glucose solution and it couldn't feed. It was only right that he was dispatched.'



'You weren't cruel where you?' (Ye gods is there no end to this?)



'I buried him at sea', I said eyeing the Loo.



All this apparently makes me cruel and obviously I know nothing of animal husbandry. Anyway. Not enough meat on a budgie for my liking.

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