Meet the newest members of our menagerie. They are George and Gracie. (Although it may be Gracie and George. And George may be a Gracie and Gracie may be a George. We’re not sure.) Seth and I came home from a weekend at the cabin and found these two had taken up residence with us.
They are love birds, and they certainly are lovely to look at. They are not, however, lovely to listen to. They squawk. They belt out sharp, unmelodious notes. With incessant frequency. And they spread dander with each flutter of their precious little wings.
Our household now includes two dogs, three birds (including Hugo the cockatiel), and an aquarium of an increasing and decreasing number of tropical fish.
Queequeg is acutely interested in these two birds. When Libby lets them out to exercise their wings, he must be watched constantly for he hates those two love birds with a diabolical intensity. He lunges for them as they fly over his head. He barks at them. He claws at the furniture trying to get on it and at the two. He plans and connives to get them and rip their colorful little heads off.
Here the darlings are, chewing on Libby’s phone. (Below that is a library book that they would also shred if they could, the little angels.) And there is Queequeg, waiting for his chance. He’s learning a lot about patience. Unfortunately, the two love birds seem to be very interested in Queequeg. They often try to get close to him. Such a meeting would not end well.
Meanwhile, though these two ounce birds are about as unthreatening as any living thing can be, 70-pound Flike is terrified of them. Generally, when the birds are out of their cage, Flike goes to the farthest point in the house from them. When we had the birds out recently, here he was, cowering with his ears down at the back of his kennel.