Odd though it may seem, seeing as how I embed so many of the danged things here, I rarely watch vids posted on other sites. Don’t know why that is, but…well, there ya go. Nonetheless, I did run across a very touching one recently, which I will now of course share with y’all.
Cute, no? And yes, I do believe it IS dusty in here, so don’t anybody feel bad about having to dab at your eyes, ‘kay?
Now, the above vid is from The DoDo, a critter-oriented website and YouTube channel that would leave Elly May Clampett (“the body of a pinup girl and the soul of a tomboy“) absolutely limp with satisfaction. My soon-to-be-12 daughter, an avid animal fancier in her own right, is endlessly urging me to watch DoDo vids, mostly featuring either cats or birds. I have to admit she does find some great stuff there.
Which brings me to the whole point of this disquisition. See, Madeleine has a cockatiel her mom got for her, a completely adorable little thing name of Cygnus. The bird lives in MJ’s room, in a spacious cage so filled with toys, baubles, and amusements as to seem almost cramped by all the avian detritus. Cygnus loves Madeleine beyond all imagining, believe me; whenever she leaves the room, even if only to refill Cygus’s water dish and bring it straightaway back, the anguished bird takes on so inconsolably that the shrieking almost rattles the windows until Madeleine returns.
Now, Cygnus was named by the folks at the pet store from whence he came, based on the staff’s determination that Cygnus was in fact a male cockatiel. That designation, based on the staff’s knowledge and prior experience, held in his new abode for several months—right up until the fine Saturday morning when Madeleine got out of bed, checked the bird habitat to wish Cygnus a good morning, and noticed a small egg lying on the floor of the cage.
WELL. Contrary to the newfound discovery that we of the Homo Sapiens Sapiens persuasion are not after all confined to just the two gender options anymore, pretty much every other species currently extant on this big blue marble of ours remains cruelly stuck with either the male or female classification, a mark of injustice, barbarism, and oppression. I’m finding it kinda difficult to remember to refer to ol’ Cygnus as a “she” due strictly to established habit, with no malice or insult intended to anybody. But I’m trying to evolve, I swear I am. Cygnus goes right on dropping the occasional egg nonetheless, evincing precious little concern in regards to my stubborn mental block. Whilst I continue working to rise above, here’s a pic of the dear boy—dammit, girl—for your enjoyment,perching on the ex-wife’s foot:
Yep, that there is indeed a Pretty Bird.