Betrisher
Well-known member
- Jun 3, 2013
- 4,253
- 177
- Parrots
- Dominic: Galah(RIP: 1981-2018); The Lovies: Four Blue Masked Lovebirds; Barney and Madge (The Beaks): Alexandrines; Miss Rosetta Stone: Little Corella
This is one of those 'you had to be there' stories, but I have to pass it on because only my birdie friends understand how funny it is!
For everyone who hasn't heard of Dominic, I inherited him from my Dad some years ago. Dom had lived in relative neglect for quite some time and has a crop of large fatty tumours on his front as well as an especially damaged personality as a result of - I dunno - losing Dad (his BFF)? Being cared for by my (demented) Mum? Simply being transferred from the home he knew for his first thirty-five years to my place for the last little while?
So Dom has a few foibles. He HATES me with a vitriolic passion and will run to bite me at every opportunity. Unless I have food. Then, he fawns all over me with his face all puffed out like last month's strumpet and his hat raised as if he hadn't recently tried to rip off hunx of my flesh! Dom hates my daughter, Ellie, even worse than he hates me. We have worked out that it's Ellie's long, red hair that he objects to because recently he flew onto the back of her head and started murdering her ponytail. See? A damaged personality.
But I digress.
The men in the house are Dom's toadies. He allows them to handle and fondle him to their hearts' content. Considering my son, Matt, feeds him and cleans his cage, this is quite reasonable. But my dear hubby does nothing for the ungrateful old vulture! So unfair! Ellie and I, who speak to him politely every day and who always give him a sliver of apple or a pinch of cracker or a green pea - well, we might as well be reptiles on the floor for all Dom cares. All we get from him is aggro!
Anway, that's some insight into Dom's personality. I should also point out that Dom spends his days on top of our fridge, where he has access to his fancy playgym and perch. From there, he can fly to any of the significant places he wants to inspect, such as the top of his cage, the sink, or the kitchenn table where FOOD can be found.
On this occasion, Matt and I were in the kitchen preparing our lunches. I was grilling cheese on toast and Matt had taken bread and ham out of the fridge to make a sandwich. He put the two slices of bread on the table and then turned away to get a bottle of pickles from the fridge. Quick-as-a-wink, Dominic arose in a great flurry of wings and alighted on top of the bread on its plate. He hopped nimbly off (which is hilarious, considering his usually lumbering gait owing to his fatty tumours), turned sharply and seized the topmost slice of bread and took off with it.
Matt and I just looked at each other with our mouths agape. While Dom gets very insistent that you share any and all of your food with him (he postively BELLOWS from his fridge if you forget to pinch off a corner of your bread for him), he has never actually stolen food like this before. Clearly, the old toad has been sitting up there, working out what the white square stuff is, realising he actually likes it and then plotting a means to get himself a bit. I was so proud! My Dad would have been so chuffed to think his precious old mate had stolen someone's lunch!
Since then, though, Dominic has become the kitchen terror. You simply can't prepare food unless he's been sent home to his cage in ignominy. The other night, hubby was making salad. Without warning, Dom swiftly took flight and landed square in the middle of a delightful Greek salad bowl, complete with feta and kalamata olives! He got a beakful of olive and another of cheese before my furious hubby had physically plopped him into his cage in disgrace. Another time, my daughter nearly had him in her bowl of cereal (Dom, not her father) when he came, shrieking, across the kitchen in search of booty. Most recently, the wicked old bird plummetted onto the rim of my coffee cup and burned his toes. Since he won't allow me to pick him up, it took some time to get a male person to come and put his poor toes under cold water. Thankfully, no damage was done, but it could have been truly nasty!
So yeah. Dominic continues to amuse us all with his deranged personality. Of course we all love him to bits, despite having various hunx and chunx of our flesh removed by him on a regular basis.
For everyone who hasn't heard of Dominic, I inherited him from my Dad some years ago. Dom had lived in relative neglect for quite some time and has a crop of large fatty tumours on his front as well as an especially damaged personality as a result of - I dunno - losing Dad (his BFF)? Being cared for by my (demented) Mum? Simply being transferred from the home he knew for his first thirty-five years to my place for the last little while?
So Dom has a few foibles. He HATES me with a vitriolic passion and will run to bite me at every opportunity. Unless I have food. Then, he fawns all over me with his face all puffed out like last month's strumpet and his hat raised as if he hadn't recently tried to rip off hunx of my flesh! Dom hates my daughter, Ellie, even worse than he hates me. We have worked out that it's Ellie's long, red hair that he objects to because recently he flew onto the back of her head and started murdering her ponytail. See? A damaged personality.
But I digress.
The men in the house are Dom's toadies. He allows them to handle and fondle him to their hearts' content. Considering my son, Matt, feeds him and cleans his cage, this is quite reasonable. But my dear hubby does nothing for the ungrateful old vulture! So unfair! Ellie and I, who speak to him politely every day and who always give him a sliver of apple or a pinch of cracker or a green pea - well, we might as well be reptiles on the floor for all Dom cares. All we get from him is aggro!
Anway, that's some insight into Dom's personality. I should also point out that Dom spends his days on top of our fridge, where he has access to his fancy playgym and perch. From there, he can fly to any of the significant places he wants to inspect, such as the top of his cage, the sink, or the kitchenn table where FOOD can be found.
On this occasion, Matt and I were in the kitchen preparing our lunches. I was grilling cheese on toast and Matt had taken bread and ham out of the fridge to make a sandwich. He put the two slices of bread on the table and then turned away to get a bottle of pickles from the fridge. Quick-as-a-wink, Dominic arose in a great flurry of wings and alighted on top of the bread on its plate. He hopped nimbly off (which is hilarious, considering his usually lumbering gait owing to his fatty tumours), turned sharply and seized the topmost slice of bread and took off with it.
Matt and I just looked at each other with our mouths agape. While Dom gets very insistent that you share any and all of your food with him (he postively BELLOWS from his fridge if you forget to pinch off a corner of your bread for him), he has never actually stolen food like this before. Clearly, the old toad has been sitting up there, working out what the white square stuff is, realising he actually likes it and then plotting a means to get himself a bit. I was so proud! My Dad would have been so chuffed to think his precious old mate had stolen someone's lunch!
Since then, though, Dominic has become the kitchen terror. You simply can't prepare food unless he's been sent home to his cage in ignominy. The other night, hubby was making salad. Without warning, Dom swiftly took flight and landed square in the middle of a delightful Greek salad bowl, complete with feta and kalamata olives! He got a beakful of olive and another of cheese before my furious hubby had physically plopped him into his cage in disgrace. Another time, my daughter nearly had him in her bowl of cereal (Dom, not her father) when he came, shrieking, across the kitchen in search of booty. Most recently, the wicked old bird plummetted onto the rim of my coffee cup and burned his toes. Since he won't allow me to pick him up, it took some time to get a male person to come and put his poor toes under cold water. Thankfully, no damage was done, but it could have been truly nasty!
So yeah. Dominic continues to amuse us all with his deranged personality. Of course we all love him to bits, despite having various hunx and chunx of our flesh removed by him on a regular basis.
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