The Importance of Pets
A breath of nature in your house soothes the soul.
I like long walks though “better than real” DVD-HD forests or along a nude beach on a treadmill. Even the girls on the video ignore me. Stuck up bitches.
I like to listen to my beloved parrot, affectionately named “Parrot #4,” that I keep in the “Funtime Cage Parrot Habitat.” I tried to recreate his natural jungle environment with newspapers, cigarette butts, empty Diet Coke and beer cans, used condoms, an anaconda and a little wheel. He’s had a couple of close calls with the anaconda. He's developed some kind of nervous tic in his left eye. The anaconda just wants to play. I think. He spends all day hanging upside down from the top of the cage. Sometimes I’ll give him two or three Valium so I can watch my shows. Sometimes I use an iPod to drown him out as he sweetly screams for help and his cute “Let me the fuck out of here, asshole!” What a jokester!
And treasure. I think we’re really bonding. Pets are a lot of work, but it’s worth it.
I have to feed him sometimes, give him water every few days and clean his cage once a month. Sometimes, I'll go to my psychiatrist's office (the liquor cabinet) and give him a bowl of Maker’s Mark. I don’t like to drink alone. But, it’s sort of a waste because he usually passes out.
“Parrot #3” met an untimely end. Being the predator he was, he flew into the freezer, without me noticing, to attack a box of fish sticks.
I didn’t realize what had happened to "Parrot #3" until I saw a frozen eyeball in my bourbon rocks, ruining a perfectly good drink.
He said, “I feel cold. So cold.” Geez. What a cliché. He’s dying, couldn’t he do better than that?
I tried to defrost him in the microwave, but my rescue efforts were futile.
I gave him CPR; “Don’t you die on me!” But, my chest compressions cracked him in half.
I tried to cry for a few seconds but I didn’t really care that much. There’s plenty more where he came from.
I suppose I could have checked the freezer when I heard the sounds of a life or death, in this case, death, struggle coming from the freezer. But, my show was on.
I buried him with the compassion and dignity he deserved. I wrapped him in the sports section and solemnly threw his cracked rigid body into the McDonalds dumpster across the street.
Whenever “Parrot #4” really gets out of line, like trying to kill me, I show him the picture I took of “Parrot #3” staring up at me from the dumpster with one frozen eye. That usually calms him down. Or freaks him out. Whatever.
Out of gratitude for me caring so much about him, he shows his affection by nipping my hand. Or he’s trying to attack me. I can’t tell. Then it’s time for the Funtime Cage!
He loves to walk in circles all day, and run on the wheel, glaring at me just as he would in the wild. It’s just like home!
What can I say? I have a way with animals. They love me.
Ah, the sights and sounds of nature. I like both sunsets and sunrises. But, they sorta look the same. I like to watch the waves of soda cans and beach whistles as they endlessly roll in. Thank you, God.
I like to feel the rain falling gently on me as I walk. WTF?! Where is that coming from?!