I have had an ominous feeling this past week. Something terrible is going on. Somehow, the spirit of my dead/murdered cockatiel has returned to terrorize me. His name was Spanky and he was a bad, bad bird.
From day one he had it out for me. Unless he was sitting smugly on top of my head, he was inconsolable with rage. He would shriek, bite, clamber, until I finally took him out of his cage after which he would hurriedly claw his way to the top of my head. When I took him out of his cage, he would go fluttering around the room clumsily on his clipped wings splattering poop everywhere. Of course, returning to the cage wasn't an option in his mind, so in order to "persuade" him, I would have to chase him around the room yelling with my lacrosse stick until I had pinned him against some hard surface. This of course, resulted in ruffled feathers both of us. And of course, he was a biter. I didn't know birds could do this, but every time I came close to him, he would hiss like a possessed cat and snap his vicious little beak every which way to make sure I couldn't feed him or change his tray.
Long story short, one day I got sick of that stare of hatred from the corner of my bedroom and we took a little walk out to the backyard. I threw him up in the air and he made a pathetic flutter towards a low tree branch. He sat there puffing for about 5 minutes then flew another 20 feet or so to another tree. An on and on until I could only hear his shrieking cries of triumph. Unfortunately, he was out of earshot when he was eventually snatched up by an eagle and made his last mocking cry. I would have liked to have heard it.
But he's back.
And he's possessed my daughter.
For some unknown reason, for the past week Pixie has been acting exactly like dear dead Spanky. She follows me around the house shrieking until I pick her up - but that's not enough. She has to have her eyes at least level with mine otherwise she claws at me like a cat trying to drag herself out of a sewer. And what about the sudden aversion to diaper changes? Much like our departed fowl, she all of a sudden wails like a banshee every time I even think the word "diaper." Her frantic twisting and moaning is a stark reminder of that bird's hatred for cleanliness. I'm sure gentle reader does not want to know about the trail of poop and puke that she leaves in my apartment - YET - I cannot help but feel like this too is a manifestation of Spanky's civil disobedience. And there are other signs. Her hair grows longer and crazier with each passing day. Much like the Cherokee tuft Spanky weilded on his evil little skull.
How to I rid myself of this malicious presence? Do I need to buy a new cockatiel and treat it with more dignity and respect? Would Spanky accept a handful of birdseed and humiliated apology thrown from my window every morning for the rest of my life? Or is it something more? Why has he chosen to inhabit darling little Pixie? I have no answers to these questions. I only know that Spanky is back with a vengence my friends. I will suffer.
For whatever it's worth, Spanky, I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I was young. I was blonde. I was a fool. Release the child.