Sunday, March 15, 2009

A Case of Blog Therapy...
...the newest installment of my biography, "Life Goes On"...
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Today I found out just how effective "Craigslist" is. I advertised a bird cage through that medium, and one party answered, said he had to come a long ways to get the cage, and he said he'd be here this afternoon, and I told him the cage was his. Well, it's been raining cats and dogs lately, and he called me back this afternoon saying he didn't want to travel, due to the inclement weather. He didn't leave any indication of when he actually would come down; he just kinda left things open-ended. Shortly after that, another party who lives in town wanted the cage today, like as in NOW. They came, got the cage, paid me, and left. Then the first guy called me back, I told him I'd already sold the cage, but before I could get out a complete sentence, "click", he hung up on me. And it continues to rain...
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Those of you who've visited this blogsite already know that I used to have a little Meyers' Parrot named Jill. We had our struggles, especially lately. All of a sudden, caring for her became hard. Things between us became strained. She got moody, and I tried harder and harder to keep her happy. Maybe I was stressing her, too. The last few times I'd held her, she bit at me, and once even hissed, which is what Parrots do when something is annoying them. This is what has happened to Every Single Relationship I've ever been in. They start out great, then things change, so I try harder, things get worse, I start becoming frustrated, and finally, crash-boom-bam, the relationship ends up falling apart. That's the way it's always been with me.
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Jill's been gone for about 3 weeks now, but her cage has been here, and sometimes it was painful to look at it. I couldn't 'not' look at it; I have a small house and it was a big cage, standing almost 5 feet tall. I put that cage together last year; it arrived in pieces. I'm hopelessly mechanically-challenged, and it took me the better part of a week to assemble it, but I was really proud that I had at last been able to apply myself to something and see a task through to its conclusion. The parrot I bought the cage for was a nervous, skittish Pionus parrot which I had for 3 months; in spite of everything I tried, I could tell that parrot was never really relaxed with me. In exchange for that parrot, I got Jill. A little bird who seemed to need my company. I think the time I miss her most is in the evenings, while I'm watching TV and playing on the computer...

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I'd drop what I was doing, and go get Jill out of the cage. I'd have bird treats alongside my La-Z-Boy chair, and she'd sit on my shoulder eating seeds, or pieces of cheese, or little clustered seed balls; maybe I'd give her some head scratches, and sometimes she'd even hide inside my hands and nap there for a little bit. As time went on, she didn't want as much time with me anymore; she'd come out of the cage and she'd want back in her cage sooner and sooner. Like she was getting tired of me, or maybe I was getting all neurotic and was trying too hard. Like I said, this is how all my relationships conclude without fail. It got to the point where she'd want out of the cage and then want right back in again. Something was changing. Maybe I could've been a better bird owner but I was doing what I could. We spent a lot of time together. I even took her places. But at the end, the stress I was feeling just got to be too much. It was like we didn't "click" any more.
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So, Jill and I parted ways. I gave her back to the gentleman who operates a Bird Rescue location in a nearby city. He's great with birds, a lot better with them than I'll ever be. For a couple of weeks now I've been in limbo; her cage was still in my house, serving as a tangible reminder of her residence here and the place she had in my life. And now the cage is gone. It's like she was Never Here. But she was, wasn't she? So I have mixed emotions today. Most of all I need the sun to come out because it's been raining much, too much lately. As I prepared to sell Jill's cage, all of a sudden, from out of nowhere, a song by Michael Jackson, of all people, burrowed its way into my brain and I keep hearing it over and over...

She's out of my life...she's out of my life...
And I don't know whether to Laugh or Cry...
I don't know whether to Live or Die
And it cuts like a knife...She's Out of my life...
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It's Out of my Hands...It's Out of my Hands...
To Think for (a while) that She Was here
And I took her for granted, I was so cavalier...
Now the way that it stands...She's Out Of My Hands...

2 Comments:

Blogger Dogwalkmusings said...

It's that presence isn't it? That's what you miss. I know how empty our house will feel when we no longer have Bacchus and I do not look forward to it!

4:32 PM  
Blogger some guy who blogs said...

Hi, Ms. Dogwalker...I'm late in responding to this, but hope you and your Canine Friend are doing well, or as well as possible...

8:58 PM  

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