“Feathered Nemesis” by Evelyn Rodinos

 

I am known as quite the animal lover, more animal-indulger actually. I am referring to the domestic furry variety, of course. (O.K. Dolphins qualify as well. I mean who can resist a species that can swim and whistle at the same time)? But I quickly retreat from most reptiles (backing away slowly while maintaining eye contact at all times — somewhat like on those rare occasions I find myself in a room full of Q-Anon supporters or Tupperware salespeople).

But I have saved a particular loathing though for budgies.

Don’t ask me why. Indeed, most bird species hold little interest for me. But budgies evoke a visceral response – a melange of fear and contempt. Or, on my more magnanimous days, overwhelming distaste.

And yet it came to pass that as the first anniversary of my second marriage approached I found myself purchasing a budgie as an anniversary gift for my husband.

Unlike me, (in so many ways, but that’s another story), Desmond absolutely loved budgies. He had them as pets growing up and was still nursing wounds and anger from a particularly scarring event some 28 years before. That was when his budgie escaped from his cage and began flapping all around the kitchen. 

Desmond’s younger brother thought he would save the day by chasing it around in order to throw a towel over it to bring it to the ground. It brought the budgie to the ground all right, except the budgie did not survive the smothering fall. It died.

Prone to holding grudges even in his younger years, Desmond always held that unfortunate event against his brother, even into adulthood. Although it was never spoken of again, that accidental death skulked, tainting the tenuous thread of their relationship.

Desmond never risked loving any other budgie since that fateful day in the kitchen. What better way then to demonstrate my enormous gratitude and love for Desmond — that extremely eligible bachelor who could have chosen to wed a much less complicated woman than this single mother with two needy children — then to present him with the gift of a budgie? How loving, how heroic it would look for me, the known budgie-hater, to grant him this gift!

I gave myself two weeks to peruse pet stores in order to purchase the oldest, sickest and most listless budgie. I’d make my Grand Gesture. In turn, the budgie would quickly expire (though probably not quick enough). It was the perfect plan!

After many a trek and endless budgie-viewings, I came upon a budgerigar-par-excellence! His feathers dropped, watery droppings, no natterings, no energy...the perfect budgie-gift! I managed to contain my excitement and not purchase him immediately just in case he was having an off-day.

But the next day, he looked even more desolate. I could not believe my good fortune. I brought him home right away, hoping he would live long enough for my “Grande Geste” that was to take place that evening at a dinner we were hosting for family and friends.

Just before the dessert course, I left the table and ceremoniously re-entered the room moments later with covered birdcage in hand. Barely containing my smugness, I solemnly place the cage in front of Desmond, then dramatically swiped off the cage cover. Immediately the room was awash in birdsong. With so much avian bravado and energy erupting from that budgie, we had no choice but to christen him Peppe.

Peppe shared the planet with me for seven long years. Unfortunately, being a member of a loving family brightened him right up. A joy to all but me.

When Peppe passed, we buried him with great pomp and circumstance in the garden. Our youngest son, still ensconced in Disney-magic fantasies asked if his tears could bring Peppe back again. I must admit that it was with some hidden perverse pleasure that I whispered no. Soon after Peppe’s death Desmond left me for a less complicated woman.

I guess I should have bought him another budgie.

***

Evelyn Rodinos is a recently retired clinical psychologist living in Montreal. She is currently exploring creative writing in her third act. 

See Brian Henry’s schedule here, including online and in-person writing workshops, weekly writing classes, and weekend retreats in Algonquin Park, Alliston, Bolton, Barrie, Brampton, Burlington, Caledon, Collingwood, Georgetown, Georgina, Guelph, Hamilton, Jackson’s Point, Kingston, Kitchener-Waterloo, London, Midland, Mississauga, Oakville, Ottawa, Peterborough, St. Catharines, Southampton, Sudbury, Toronto, Windsor, Woodstock, Halton, Muskoka, Peel, Simcoe, York Region, the GTA, Ontario and beyond.