Just Couldn't Pull The Trigger



Dutch Blue Pied Lovebird

I came home quite exhausted and disgruntled and that bothered me a lot since I happen to be very fond of my gruntles. I had wasted the better part of a Sunday afternoon and had returned empty-handed. Of course since my spiritual awaking I try to look past the mundane little disappointments of everyday life and find the underlying Divine message. Here it was quite obvious: G-d did not want me to have a bird. Not now, anyway. After all, in all the times I've frequented Parrots of the World, I have never been there when they didn't have any lovebirds. Not once. One would think that a person as enlightened as Yours Truly would take heed, follow G-d's unmistakable instructions and put all birdy plans on hold, at least for now...wouldn't one? Well, I didn't. Instead I reverted back to the petulant child who's disappointed with his Chanukah present and throws a hissy-fit until his migraine-addled parents finally cave and get him the Wii game that he saw at GameStop where he can kill all the space aliens he could possibly want (hey, Mrs. Lieberman...remember "Feige's Fun-Do"?).  So I went online and googled "Lovebirds for sale in New York City". I found a bunch of ads and I called about two of them, one out in Huntington and the other right here in Brooklyn. Lovebirds come in an almost endless variety of color mutations. This go-around I was kind of hoping for a Black-Masked or a Fischer's Lovebird. The Brooklyn dealer had "Dutch Blue Pied Lovebirds". I'd never heard of them, so I looked for a picture online (see above). It's a pretty bird, but not what I wanted. So I called Carla, the bird lady in Huntington. She turned out to be a breeder and she also runs a bird sanctuary. She had every possible color mutation I had ever heard of, and she was fifty dollars cheaper than Parrots of the World. I asked her if she knew Marc Marrone and she said sure, he wants her babies! I had to go to a funeral on Monday afternoon so we made up for me to drive out there afterward and pick up my adorable new feathered charge. So here's the punchline, boys and girls: I COULDN'T BRING MYSELF TO DO IT. Despite being given a green light from Dr. DePalo, who is more familiar with my pulmological woes than anyone else on the planet, I could not go against the will and advice of my entire family from my mother to my siblings to my nieces (and nephews, I guess) to my kids. Especially my kids. This image of them sitting at my bedside while I was sedated kept popping stubbornly into my head. As Chayie told me once (and she's the smartest person in the whole family...just ask her), "you didn't go through this by yourself; we all went through hell with you". So I guess I owe you all, even if I disagree with you and think you're being pig-headed and unreasonable. This is no guarantee that I won't buy a bird somewhere down the pike, mind you, but for now it's been put on the back burner until further notice. Satisfied?

                                                                  Black-Masked Lovebirds

                                                                       Fischer's Lovebirds