The Tale of Pickles

A friend recently commented about the hilarity of my life. I don’t always share these misadventures because:

1. I forget that others are not experiencing similar things
2. Some of these misadventures do not seem very funny at the time

So, I am going to share some of these adventures with you starting with The Tale of Pickles.

Once upon a time, a little girl started a fascination with birds. She requested books and movies on the topic and loved talking about them. I thought it was a great interest and we expanded our outdoor bird feeders and kept them stocked with seed. It was fun to watch these birds outside our window. Then, the interest grew.

A word of warning to all parents: Be careful what interests that you encourage in your children during the late November and early December months. This little girl decided that the ONLY thing that she really wanted for Christmas was a bird of her very own. I tried to explain to her that we had several chickens from which she could choose to develop a closer relationship. She declined this offer since I refused to allow any of the chickens to move into the house. We seemed to be at an impasse.

Then, this creative child decided to ask Santa for a song bird in a cage for her very own. Apparently, Santa is a sucker because we soon became the home to two finches named Snowball and Storm.

You didn’t misread the names; the story of Pickles is still coming.

She loved these birds. Apparently, Snowball had some bird neurological condition that we didn’t know about. This caused the bird to randomly fall over and plop onto the bottom of her cage…… similar to a fainting goat. If it wasn’t concerning, it would have been really funny.

Before we could pursue any veterinary evaluation, she died. Luckily for her, we have our own pet cemetery ready for such cases.

Spooky, isn't it?!

Our adventure as finch owners was not going well. Based on my limited understanding and reading about finches, they are social birds and should live in groups (or at least pairs). So, to prevent anymore heartbreak this early in our bird-keeping experience, we purchased two more birds. The first one was easily named Lightning. As we were discussing names for the second bird, the kids shouted “Peckers would be a great name!”

I really didn’t want to spend the next several years explaining that Peckers was named so because she liked to peck at her food and that it wasn’t some sordid reference to a male body part. Luckily the coffee had kicked in that morning and I was quick enough on my feet to pretend that I heard the name “Pickles”. I immediately encouraged the name of Pickles and refused to believe that they intended anything else. That’s how Pickles got her unique name.

It was soon discovered that although the books say that these birds enjoy the company of other birds of their own kind, Pickles had failed to read these books. Pickles decided to be the alpha-bird and eliminate the competition. We soon discovered two more dead birds that had been pecked to death by the previously and appropriately named Peckers. Add two more to the pet cemetery.

Once Pickles had eliminated her competition, she seemed much happier and is a daily pain in the butt with her constant chirping and messy way of throwing her food out of the cage. Her only saving grace is that a little girl loves having this annoying companion in the house. She reads to the bird and has even set up a mirror to encourage the bird’s narcissistic attitude. I have a feeling that despite our early struggle to keep birds alive, this one will never leave us.

Well, our little girl isn’t the only one that finds Pickles an interesting addition to the family. Our cats have enjoyed the new challenge.

We have placed the bird and cage in a high corner of the house in a protected area away from predators. At least we thought…

Our cats normally spend most of their time outside. They join us inside when they occasionally want a comfy place to sleep during the day or feel that their food rations are inadequate. This winter we had some VERY cold nights. I felt very sorry for these poor creatures being outside in the weather despite the hubby’s insistence that they would be fine. So, after everyone went to bed for the night, I quietly snuck them into the house. I was convinced that I was preventing cat-popsicles from forming on our deck by this heroic move. The cats were happy and warm and no one was the wiser as I happily drifted off into dreamland.

At around 6am, the house woke up to….. CRASH!

Apparently, the cats decided that human sleepy-time was a perfect time to catch the troublesome Pickles. The crashing sound was the sound of the cage hitting the floor and breaking into bits. What followed was a whirlwind of activities that mirrored a Sylvester and Tweety cartoon.

• Pickles finding herself free from her cage but in danger for her life, was flying frantically throughout the house.
• The sleepy family was aroused and fumbling through the house in confusion to put together the pieces of what had just happened.
• The bird cage that had crashed to the floor was in pieces and the birdseed and water that had spilled over the floor resulted in a huge, slippery mess.
• The cats that were initially scared of the crashing cage flew up the stairs (underneath human feet) and hid….. somewhere.
• The young dog awoke and found this to be a fun adventure. He alternated between chasing the cats, the bird and the humans throughout the house.
• The old, deaf dog sensed that something was going on and decided to see if this would be a good time to get the humans to feed her.
• Once the puzzle pieces had been put together, the adult humans argued with each other over the intelligence of letting the cats stay in the house overnight.
• The kids were running around “helping” the situation by trying to catch any running animal that they could get their hands on, while screaming with excitement.

Eventually…

• The dogs and cats were placed outside without letting Pickles escape with them.
• Pickles was caught.
• The cage was put back together.
• The mess on the floor was cleaned up.
• Pickles was returned to her cage with fresh water and food.
• The coffee was started.
• I decided that the hubby may have been right about the cats staying outside for the night, although I was NOT about to let him know that.
• We decided to get dressed and discover what the rest of the day had in store for us.

I would like to pretend that the story of an escaped Pickles was an isolated one, but it is not. While the cats are no longer allowed in the house overnight (despite cold conditions), they have not given up the challenge of capturing Pickles. We have attempted to better fortify the cage but the cats are creative and persistent creatures. In this chaotic turn of events, we have discovered a hidden talent in my son. He has an innate ability to catch an escaped bird when it appears impossible. I’m not sure where he will use that skill in life outside of this house, but you never know what the future may hold!