So, it’s finally time for another entry in the never-ending chronicles of my dad.
For the past few weeks, I’ve been wondering, waiting, for material to use in a new blog about my dad. Usually, he does or says enough things to create a fun blog, but as of late, there hadn’t been much to go off. Then, as if a present from the sky, came what I was waiting for.
A bird.
Today, my dad arrived home, with a paper bag in his hand. Now, he does that every day, but as he greeted me at the door this time, he foisted the paper bag into my hands. Baffled, I wondered what he possibly could be giving to me. I knew something was up, when I saw the back of the bag had holes in it, and the way my dad was desperately trying his best not to grin excitedly.
I opened the top of the bag, to peer inside, and upon seeing the contents of the bag, I shrieked and shut it. A white bird was nestled at the bottom of the bag, tilting his head back and forth in curiosity. I peeked into the bag again to see—to make sure—and lo and behold, the bird was still sitting happily inside.
Startled, I nearly dropped the bag. I made sure to try to keep it as steady as possible as I stumbled over saying “huh” “what” “how” and “bird?!” all at once. My dad, smiling joyously, waved his arms, and said “a gift for you!” Before walking inside, leaving me with the paper bag and bird.
According to my dad, he had found the bird sitting outside in a parking lot. He wanted to pet it, so he followed it for a few minutes, before eventually deciding to pick it up in his bare hands. From there, he walked to a nearby grocery store, asked for a paper bag, ripped open a few air holes, and stuffed the bird inside. With the bird in tow, he took an Uber home. I can’t even imagine what the conversation between my dad and the driver was, seeing as my dad likely couldn’t resist bragging about what was in the bag.
As I was panicking about what to do with this bird, my dad eagerly took the bird out of the bag, grabbing it with his hands, and setting it on our table. I expected the bird to fly around or start cawing, or anything, but it calmly sat there, ruffling its feathers every so often. I offered it a bowl of water, wondering how birds even drank water in the first place. It cutely dipped its head into the dish and seemed to drink the water. Then, dad began grabbing things out of the cupboard like oatmeal cookies, or a chocolate granola bar, and tried to offer it to the bird. I might not know much about birds, but I do know they probably can't eat sugary things or chocolate, though my dad just wanted to spoil his bird friend with snacks, as if it were a child, rather than a pet.
We decided on oatmeal and carrots, for the time being, as we figured out what in the world to do with a bird. For the most part, the little guy has been super calm, and appears to be trained. I voiced the opinion that he might be someone's pet, to the horror of my dad, because he wants to keep his bird friend forever and ever. He's been sitting with the bird, uncaged, for about 3 hours now, trying desperately to get it to sit on his shoulder.
For your enjoyment, I captured some short videos.
Volume warning:
Dad has decided that we will be naming the bird (for the time being) Punky, because "he has the crazy hair like the punky people" (mohawk). We're gonna take him to a vet, learn some stuff about him, and decide if we're equipped enough to even care for a bird. Regardless of what happens, this has definitely been a weird day.
For the past few weeks, I’ve been wondering, waiting, for material to use in a new blog about my dad. Usually, he does or says enough things to create a fun blog, but as of late, there hadn’t been much to go off. Then, as if a present from the sky, came what I was waiting for.
A bird.
Today, my dad arrived home, with a paper bag in his hand. Now, he does that every day, but as he greeted me at the door this time, he foisted the paper bag into my hands. Baffled, I wondered what he possibly could be giving to me. I knew something was up, when I saw the back of the bag had holes in it, and the way my dad was desperately trying his best not to grin excitedly.
I opened the top of the bag, to peer inside, and upon seeing the contents of the bag, I shrieked and shut it. A white bird was nestled at the bottom of the bag, tilting his head back and forth in curiosity. I peeked into the bag again to see—to make sure—and lo and behold, the bird was still sitting happily inside.
Startled, I nearly dropped the bag. I made sure to try to keep it as steady as possible as I stumbled over saying “huh” “what” “how” and “bird?!” all at once. My dad, smiling joyously, waved his arms, and said “a gift for you!” Before walking inside, leaving me with the paper bag and bird.
According to my dad, he had found the bird sitting outside in a parking lot. He wanted to pet it, so he followed it for a few minutes, before eventually deciding to pick it up in his bare hands. From there, he walked to a nearby grocery store, asked for a paper bag, ripped open a few air holes, and stuffed the bird inside. With the bird in tow, he took an Uber home. I can’t even imagine what the conversation between my dad and the driver was, seeing as my dad likely couldn’t resist bragging about what was in the bag.
As I was panicking about what to do with this bird, my dad eagerly took the bird out of the bag, grabbing it with his hands, and setting it on our table. I expected the bird to fly around or start cawing, or anything, but it calmly sat there, ruffling its feathers every so often. I offered it a bowl of water, wondering how birds even drank water in the first place. It cutely dipped its head into the dish and seemed to drink the water. Then, dad began grabbing things out of the cupboard like oatmeal cookies, or a chocolate granola bar, and tried to offer it to the bird. I might not know much about birds, but I do know they probably can't eat sugary things or chocolate, though my dad just wanted to spoil his bird friend with snacks, as if it were a child, rather than a pet.
We decided on oatmeal and carrots, for the time being, as we figured out what in the world to do with a bird. For the most part, the little guy has been super calm, and appears to be trained. I voiced the opinion that he might be someone's pet, to the horror of my dad, because he wants to keep his bird friend forever and ever. He's been sitting with the bird, uncaged, for about 3 hours now, trying desperately to get it to sit on his shoulder.
For your enjoyment, I captured some short videos.
Volume warning:
Dad has decided that we will be naming the bird (for the time being) Punky, because "he has the crazy hair like the punky people" (mohawk). We're gonna take him to a vet, learn some stuff about him, and decide if we're equipped enough to even care for a bird. Regardless of what happens, this has definitely been a weird day.
You arent'? 