If you're a bird, I'm a bird...

Have I told you about my side business as a dog-sitter? I'm a regular Saskatch Millan. Although, unlike Sir Cesar Millan, I play favorites and admittedly get embarrassed when people assume certain types of dogs are my own (I won't name breeds!). You might be wondering why I don't have any pets-not-even-a-dog if I love them so much. I'm currently living with my boyfriend and his three girl roommates (who, incidentally, are not fond of his alleged squatter-meets-live-in girlfriend, even if she is as elusive as her nickname). Since living with roommates-who-are-not-my-roommates is tricky to begin with, owning a dog is not in the cards at the moment and dog-sitting fills the void. That is, it did until I met Corvus.

The other day, sasbeau heard a flutter while he was working in his wood shop (what's that? How oh-so Noah Calhoun of him, you say? Why, I never made that comparison, but now that you mention it...). He investigated to find that crows were dive bombing the cutest little parakeet you ever saw. I happen to like crows (they mate for life!), but picking on this little green budgie was just mean. After a particularly mind-numbing collision with a window, the bird was in a daze and sasbeau scooped him up and put him in a box—where he stayed for the day on a bed of sawdust chips, with water and fruit for the taking. When I heard that sasbeau had found an animal, I thought LOVE FERN! and swung by the shop for a look-see. We sat and stared at the budgie box while we ate our sandwiches, contemplating what to do with him. Every now and then we'd hear a "peck-peck-peck" and the box would lurch forward. "We have to get him a cage," I said. "I see where this is going," sasbeau said, knowing I was seeing visions of bird-on-the-shoulder-snuggles. We stopped at Petco on the way home...$50 later—spent on toys, food, and a chic cage—we were proud bird owners. Or as the Petco lady said, "Congratulations, you just had a baby." Now that we had a pet, he needed a name. You know what we settled on? Corvus. Corvus? He would get pummeled every single day if he had to go to birdie school. Since the crows were chasing him when sasbeau found him, we (eh hem, not me) looked up the genus name for crows and... (you guessed it!) Corvus brachyrhynchos. Since brachyrhynchos is a mouthful...well, you get the idea. So, Corvus it is. He now lives a lovely life with honey-seed-treat-sticks aplenty, toys he scoffs at, two humans he gets to wake up every morning at 6:42 am, and a neighborhood cat that watches his every move from the window by his cage.

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You moved? With the girl roommates? Wow! Love the name Corvus only because of how it came to be. You two are too right for each other. Kinda scary.

I was about to write you and tell you to write, but here you are reading my mind. Us stay at home moms (and I'm sure procrastinating worker bees) need their blog fix.

Posted by: Ashley | Apr 18, 2010 at 10:14 PM