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Comedy
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| Budgies-Compendium | |
| By cynicsid | ||||||||||||||||
| 21 October 2006 | ||||||||||||||||
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Now I've learnt how to type, it can go out under the Siddie Logo. This includes the three previous tales and the latest one. "Keep bashing that Millet" MATES FOR LIFE They mean well and they’re very kind, but it should be obvious what’s the matter with me, I’m frustrated. I want a Lady Budgie to bill and coo with. See it’s not easy masturbating when you’re a Budgie, the nearest I get is when they stick in a new spray of millet. And they watch! “Oh look” they’ll exclaim, “He’s playing one of his funny games”. No wonder I knock hell out of that bloody bell. Now and again they let me out to have a “fly”. The times I’ve banged my head on windows and mirrors, why can’t they draw the curtains and cover the mirrors. And keep the cat out. Apparently the Cat and the last Budgie got on very well and they’d play together, then one day the Cat ate it. I’m very wary of the cat. Their eldest girl is an Animal Rights Activist and she tried to set me free. But thank god her brother caught her, grabbed hold of me, put me back in my cage and then give her a slap. He told me that the wild Birds would have killed me within minutes of me getting into the free world. Apparently she’d liberated three of the four previous budgies and they’d all been killed. She loves animals so much, that she had them have the cat doctored, cos he would keep spraying up her bedroom wall. I hope that they never sniff the Millet or I’m for the chop. It was the boy’s idea to get me a chum. So they got another Budgie, a bloke! We both eyed each other cautiously, he opened the conversation, “I was hoping that you’d be a girl Budgie, cos I’m not gay” I reassured him with my answer, “Well metaphorically speaking, I’m not even cheerful. Look why don’t we have a pretend fight, they’ll have to take you back to the shop.” So that’s what we did, we ended up with him laid out in the corner and me hanging me right wing like it was broken. So I’m back on my own. If things weren’t bad enough I’m constantly badgered by stupid questions such as, “Who’s a pretty boy then? How should I know, I’m a Budgie! I was tempted to answer, “Well there’s that nice man from across the road, she seems quite keen on, she being the missus that is. They try to teach me silly rhymes such as, “Peter Piper Picked a peck of pickled pepper etc.” But I’m not daft and I’ll say things like “Bollocks” and then they’ll start rowing about who taught the Budgie to say rude words. I became so depressed that I got something wrong with me feathers, they started to fall out, so they took me to the vets. She knew a thing or two, she said, “He need’s a lady friend and as luck would have it, I’ve been asked to put down a beautiful hen Budgie, so why don’t you have her?” They put the pair of us in a cage, she was gorgeous, I looked at her and asked, “Who’s a Pretty Boy then.” She’d answered, “You are big guy” I’m a dark blue, but she’s a light subtle blue. She made herself all small and helpless. I don’t know why but I do a little dance and then stopped and lifted a wing. She scuttled into its cover and started to preen me. I nuzzled the back of her neck with my closed beak, when I get to certain spot she shivered. She loved it. I couldn’t half give her one. Which I did, but that’s none of your business. All I will say is Serendipity! BLUEY You never know when you’re well off do yer? Give the Millet its due; it was always available, but it was never pushy. Not like her, Bluey that is, oh no. She wants it all the time and if she don’t get her way, god help me. She’s got nasty talons and a very sharp beak. They all make a fuss of her. She’ll start pushing her luck, the odd nip and slash with her claws. But when I lose it, she squawks, flutters about, and the moment she sees that one of them has noticed, she drops to the bottom of the cage and huddles in one of the corners. “Who’s a bad boy, bullying little Bluey”, they’ll ask. “Come here Bluey”. They’ll say. A hand will open the cage door and Bluey will hop up onto it. I don’t try to follow cos they’ll just shut the door in me face. Then she’s off for a fly. Her favourite trick is to perch on the outside of the cage and take the micky. I daren’t do anything. They’ll simper “Oh look at Bluey, isn’t she a love, now come on Siddie, say your sorry.” Siddie, what sort of name’s that for a Budgie? I’d ‘ave preferred “Billy” or Bluey even, but Siddie. In times of stress I do me work out routine. Up the ladder, give the bell a bashing, hop across to the mirror do me shadow nipping. That little beggar in the mirror is good. I can’t catch him out or ‘im me, and I’m really good. One day there she is, having a fly, queen of all she surveys, when I notice they’ve not locked the cage door. I nudge it open and then climb up it, finally taking a short quiet fly to the top of the lamp standard. The doorbell rings, so the Missus goes out and leaves the lounge door open. Bluey is playing on the floor pushing this little ball about. She’s quite lovely: from a distance. Then I sees him, the cat, creeping on his belly towards her. To be continued. SIDDIE RIP? My Brain said to me, “See, she’s gonna get her comeuppance.” I wasn’t impressed. It then said, “Imagine it, you’ve got yer cage back and they all love Siddie once again”. “So what?” I thought. Finally it asked, “What do you think you can do to a vicious cat that size?” I wished that it had made its last remark first, cos instinct had got me to fly at the cat. I was just about to slash at it with my claws, when it just padded me away with the back of one its paws. I dropped like a stone and landed by the side of it. I tried to fly off, but one of me wings hung down and dragged on the floor. That’s it; I’m off to the Great Cuttle Fishbone in the Sky. Mind, I’d given Bluey her chance and she shot up and was well out his reach. Then the silly bloody little “Hen” that she is, swooped at him, slashed his nose with her claws and shot away. He forgot all about me and was now tracking her. Funny really cos I always used to take the micky out of her, typical “Hen”, she was always preening herself and then sharpening her beak and claws on the Cuttle Fishbone. Her talons were as sharp as needles. Slowly she’s drawing the cat away from me, but I can’t move. The cat is pulling in and making himself small. Bluey is getting too close and the cat’s waiting to spring at her. I try to run at the cat but merely manage to fall over, onto me good wing. Then the Mister comes in, he shouts at the cat, but the cat’s lost it! He launches himself at the Mister, not a good move, as the Mister is holding a mug of hot black coffee. The coffee ends up flung into the cat’s moosh, but that didn’t stop him. In self defence the Mister smashed the mug down onto the Cat’s head. It was the cat’s turn to drop to the floor like stone. It shook its head, crouched down and then shot out of the room. The Missus came in and was given an ear bashing. The Mister was upset and he kicked the door shut. Meanwhile Bluey had landed quite near me. She looked upset. She hopped from one foot to the other, and bobbed up down making her “worried noise”. It sounds a bit like, “Tut,Tut,Tut,Tut,Tut.” I know that Budgies can’t cry but when she nuzzled me, her beak was wet. She then had a look at my wing. Suddenly she flicked it with her wing and it fell back into place. I couldn’t move it, but it was a lot more comfortable than when it was dragging on the floor. The Mister come over and gently picked me up, Bluey flew up and landed on his wrist. He said to me, “Now Siddie that nice lady vet is on her way to make you better.” “Why does the Silly Sod talk to me like I was a chick? He means well bless him.” He put me in the cage and Bluey followed me in. She made a fuss of me, feeding me like I was a little one. I can take all this. Then the vet comes. She was very thorough, she said to the Mr and Mrs, “There is no permanent crippling and he’ll in time be able to fly, but only short hops”. She stroked Bluey, and said “Well, well, she’s not long off laying. We’re gonna have a little one, mind if she has her way in time it’ll be a flock of ‘em. Carrying has put her off you know her excessive demands, so at night, at last, I can rest in peace. Budgies-The Wheel of Life. Bluey laid the one egg but it never hatched. She was very upset. I was very upset, there was gonna be a little Siddie. I’d ‘ave taught him all the important things, bashing the bell, running up and down ladders, how to be cute, the old millet trick, the lot, but it wasn’t to be. Since the incident with the cat, the Mister has really got into Budgies and he’s joined this Web-Site Budgies’ Owners’ Club. At least once a day, he opens the cage, puts his two hands palms up and Bluey hops onto one and I hop onto the other one. Today he looked at me and asked “Do you know what you are Siddie.” Well depending on his mood, I could be; A pretty boy, A funny Boy, A clever boy, A naughty boy, A bad Boy, the list is endless. I’m a bloody Budgie yer fool. “You Siddie are an Opaline Violet Spangle.” Blueys killing herself with laughing, what I mean is she bouncing up and down and shaking her head from to side. She’s quick at the talking lark, and starts cawing “Siddies a Spangle, Siddies a Spangle” The Mister continued, “And you Bluey, are a Normal Skyblue. Her, normal, you gotta be joking, she’s as batty as a bat. “I’ve bought you two a present”. He takes us over to the table, there’s this thing on it. “It’s a Budgie wheel and it turns like this” He puts me half–way up on side and her half way up on the other side. My side goes shooting down and hers shooting up, it give her a fright. The Boy comes in and he says “Dad that’s just like a Hamsters Wheel, Mum come and have a look at the Budgies. So she and the girl comes in. And they stand watching us. This is a real laugh, I like hopping up to the top, cos you gotta be quick or you don’t get anywhere. Bluey’s cheating, she flaps her wings, to try to push herself up as she hops, she’s much cleverer than me. Little Siddie would have loved this. We Budgies are very empathetic; cos I suddenly felt very sad and so did Bluey and she came over and give me a little nuzzle. The Mister put his two hands down and we hopped on to them and he took us back to our cage and we hopped in. Then he had us in fits of laughter, cos he tried to get the Wheel in the cage and it wouldn’t go through the hole, then it jammed and he couldn’t get it out. He did finally get it out, but in the process me and Bluey learnt a few new words such as Soddit, Buggrit, Fuggit and Bawls.
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