Bertie and the Tim Burton Birdcage

One of those long, gas-lantern-lit nights when The Ex and I were frantically trying to finish insulating and plasterboarding the cottage before he had to go interstate,  my budgie Bertie experienced a Rather Unfortunate Incident. We were plastering over the spot on the wall where Bertie’s cage normally hung on a hook, so I popped him on the ground temporarily until I could find a better spot for him.

A few minutes later I heard a thumping crash and looked up to see The Ex looking dazed and a bit sheepish, having just fallen off a ladder. He was sitting on the box he had just landed on,  except, it wasn’t a box. It was Bertie’s birdcage! I calmly pointed this out to The Ex (okay, I may have screamed at him to get off the $^&ing birdcage NOW!!  whilst hyperventilating) and we both looked with great trepidation as The Ex slowly lifted his arse to reveal what was left of Bertie and his cage.

Dear Reader, please don’t worry. Bertie was okay. Those St Vincent de Paul $5 birdcages really punch above their weight in the crash test stakes! He was sitting in the one corner of the cage that wasn’t squashed to buggery by The Ex’s bum, looking very small and shaken. It was a good half hour before he recovered and returned to his usual irrepressible chortling self.  But while Bertie eventually bounced back from the Rather Unfortunate Incident, sadly the birdcage did not. It looked like something Tim Burton would design. On acid.

The Tim Burton birdcage

So on the weekend I bought Bertie a lovely new, white birdcage. No Vincent de Paul special, this was the mansion of birdcages, as evidenced by its distinctly mansion-shaped design, complete with peaked roof. I set up the new birdcage with toys and treats and placed it next to the old one (in which Bertie, being a bird of fixed habits, was still ensconced).

Not a bird for trying new things, Bertie resolutely stuck with what he knew...

Bertie seemed quite intrigued by the new cage, and I’m pretty sure he was eying off the treats and his beloved heart shaped mirror that I’d transferred into there, but still he wouldn’t budge. After a couple of hours I held his old cage right up against the door of the new one and he finally figured it out. Phew!

Bertie and his beloved heart-shaped mirror

I think he looks pleased, don’t you?

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2 Responses to Bertie and the Tim Burton Birdcage

  1. Grew up with one of those guys … on a ranch in South Dakota of all places … and taught him to say his name (Pudgie) in five different levels of intonation … to everyone’s repeated amusement and his obviously smug satisfaction. Fond memories.
    roger

  2. Yes I love parrots – they pack a lot of personality into such a small package!

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