Easy 10
Brain dead MUG SHEEP
It is with great sadness that I must report the (expected) demise of my cockatiel, BRUCE.
I was sitting down on Saturday afternoon just catching up with a bit of Soccer Saturday, when Bruce flew from his cage and settled on the back of my armchair, where (as is his habit), he began GROOMING the back of my head by chewing bits of my hair. The back door was slightly open, but this was nothing unusual, as he has never, in six years, shown the slightest inclination to leave the living room - he wouldn't even go anywhere near flying through the lounge door, let alone the back door, he was a timid fellow.
However, on Saturday, suddenly and without warning, Bruce took off and flew through the gap in the door, out into the back garden, up and away and never to be seen again. I have my doubts he would even have survived even the first night out in the wild, as he is totally domesticated and although well meaning, generally quite unintelligent. I left his cage outside on the patio over the weekend in the forlorn hope that he'd find his way back, but a homing pigeon he ain't, and I must assume he has now perished somewhere.
Obviously with a 3 year old girl missing in Portugal, this is all pretty minor stuff in the great scheme of things. But I'd had him over six years, and I will miss the little bugger chewing my hair, sitting on my knee waiting for his lettuce, and his cheery chirping especially in the mornings.
If you're dead, RIP Bruce.
If you're alive, come home matey. There's some fresh millet in your cage.
(although I realise he doesn't actually read NSC)
I was sitting down on Saturday afternoon just catching up with a bit of Soccer Saturday, when Bruce flew from his cage and settled on the back of my armchair, where (as is his habit), he began GROOMING the back of my head by chewing bits of my hair. The back door was slightly open, but this was nothing unusual, as he has never, in six years, shown the slightest inclination to leave the living room - he wouldn't even go anywhere near flying through the lounge door, let alone the back door, he was a timid fellow.
However, on Saturday, suddenly and without warning, Bruce took off and flew through the gap in the door, out into the back garden, up and away and never to be seen again. I have my doubts he would even have survived even the first night out in the wild, as he is totally domesticated and although well meaning, generally quite unintelligent. I left his cage outside on the patio over the weekend in the forlorn hope that he'd find his way back, but a homing pigeon he ain't, and I must assume he has now perished somewhere.
Obviously with a 3 year old girl missing in Portugal, this is all pretty minor stuff in the great scheme of things. But I'd had him over six years, and I will miss the little bugger chewing my hair, sitting on my knee waiting for his lettuce, and his cheery chirping especially in the mornings.
If you're dead, RIP Bruce.
If you're alive, come home matey. There's some fresh millet in your cage.
(although I realise he doesn't actually read NSC)
