Rules of the Jungle

I was speaking to my good friend Cathy today when she announced..."I got a pet rat". Remembering how delighted Bella was when she found a rat in the raspberry patch a few years ago, I commented "but you are a schnauzer mother...schnauzers are born ratters!" Yes the rat was providing hours of entertainment for her dogs and would soon require therapy for anxiety disorder.

Then I thought of our dearly departed Joe Brandenbird, our former cockatiel, RIP.

Tony bought Joe for me to distract me from the idea of getting a second dog and subsequently he got me another dog to distract me from having a baby, a strategy he now knows didn't work particularly well for him. Anyway, my old dog Muffer was part cocker (bird dog) and would salivate and cry if we played or talked with Joe. Then came Tasha...a poodle cocker cross who had springs in her rear legs and could jump onto the top of the stove. Joe at that point decided he did not like dogs, people, or anything other than Tony, who taught him to whistle the Brandenburg Concerto.

He was quite a naughty bird biting me and spitting seed at the dogs at every opportunity. After 18 years of cleaning up under his cage I researched a little to see how long Joe could expect to inhabit this earth...and he was already past his best-before date. Incidentally, as I am writing this I can see pop-up advertisements suggesting that it is possible to train my schnauzers and teach my cockatiel to be a happy bird. Who knew?

Last New Years Eve day I was rushing about the house getting ready for our trip to Cuba the following day. I filled the outside suet holder for the cardinals and topped up Joe's food supply. I left his cage door open thinking he might like a little fly around the sunroom which he often did, and I left for work.

On my return I first encountered Bella who took one look at me, gave me an "oh shit" look, and ran the other way. I then spotted Tasha, my blind deaf 120 year old dog who looked like she had been in a pillow fight. The house looked like a cockatiel feather factory...only without the cockatiel.

We never did see Joe again. In deconstructing the crime scene, it appeared that he had flown into the glass door in reponse to a bird sitting on the outside feeder, knocking himself into the welcoming muzzle of Bella. Now Bella loses interest in critters that stop moving, so we suspect that Tasha then retrieved Joe and attempted to eat and thereby hide the evidence, somewhat unsuccessfully.

My Dyson and I had about 10 minutes to have a hissy fit, clean up and construct a reasonable story for Lil that would not induce any nightmares.
"Lil, Joe fell out of his cage and died today" I explained.
"Where is Joe now?" she asked
"Well, I think he flew to heaven"
"Mom, if Joe fell out of his cage, wouldn't Bella get him?" she asked
"Hey, we're leaving for Cuba soon...can you find your water wings?"
And Joe was never mentioned again.
Tasha is still smiling.