Surprise, Surprise...

I went to Austin to visit my kids for four days.  My son performed in a show some friends of his put together, and he wrote and performed a rap song...in gold lame pants and spray-painted blue shoes!  It was fun and interesting...I got tired just watching them run around the stage.

While I was there, the temperature, with the heat index, was somewhere around 105 degrees.  My daughter doesn't like to use her air conditioner, mostly because it runs up the electric bill, but also because she's used to the heat.  My son, who shares the house, finally decided he needed an A/C for his room, so we went to Lowe's and bought one.  I'll let them work it out.  They're good at compromising with each other, and Dan is willing to pay extra to stay cool.  On my last evening, my daughter finally relented and turned on the A/C.  I think my red, sweaty face convinced her that I'd have heatstroke if she didn't cool things down!

I almost made the trip home Sunday in six hours.  Usually, I get home six hours to the minute, and that includes a gas/potty break.  But I hit the Kountry Korner store in Marquez at a late shift change and had to wait 10 minutes to buy a Coke.  That put me home about 15 or twenty minutes later than usual, but I was in the door by 5:30pm.

My inside cat greeted me with strident meows.  She followed me around all night, even climbing in bed with me, which she hardly ever does.  But I figured she would have her kittens soon, and she did--between my knees, under the coverlet on my new bed!  I slept through the whole thing.  I'm just grateful I didn't roll over on them. 

When I was in junior high school, our family dog, Lady, had her puppies in bed with me.  I slept through that, too!  I had to sleep on the sofa until she moved the babies. 

The four kittens are beautiful, and, as I hoped, one of them looks like Buddy, the tomcat who disappeared about a month ago.  So, I have a replica of him, though nothing will replace him.  My awful neighbor gave Buddy to me--the only remotely "nice" thing she's done since she moved in.  He was my "puppy cat" and followed me around.  A sweet tomcat.  I miss him.

I'll take a picture and post it as soon as things calm down. 

And Your Bird Can Sing...

but not anymore. Sadly, my cockatiel, Ophelia, died today. He (yes, he had a female name) just suddenly got sick and passed on. I buried him in the Perriwinkle flower bed.

My son and I bought Ophelia for about $35, oh, probably 15 years ago (or maybe longer; I don't remember). The person who sold him to us told us he was female, but female cockatiels have less flashy coloring than males. Imagine our surprise when Ophelia developed the orange circles on his yellow head--he looked as though he put on too much rouge.

My daughter taught him to wolf whistle, which lifted my spirits considerably. Every time I'd come into view, he'd whistle. He developed a game--he'd whistle a certain pattern and expect me to repeat it back to him. If I didn't do it exactly right, he'd screech at me, then whistle, then screech--well, you get the idea! Dorothy also taught him to say "Pretty bird" and "I love you." After a while, he began to put the two together: "I love you pretty bird," or "I love you bird." The cats liked to sit next to his cage--after I used the water spray on them, they stopped attacking the cage. When the cats would sit next to him, Ophelia would talk non-stop until they left. I think that confused the cats. The birds outside don't talk.

We used to have a dachsund named Oscar. Oscar and Ophelia developed a close relationship, so much so that Ophelia used to call Oscar when he wanted a visit from the dog. I'd have to pick Oscar up and hold him next to the cage.

Ophelia was an excellent "watchbird," a trait he shared with geese. Whenever he saw or sensed a person around the house (birds have excellent hearing, after all), he would screech loudly. He also used to scream if he heard sirens.

I'm a bit unsettled. After losing Judas, one of my older cats, and then Ophelia, I'm a bit undone. Yes, they are "only" pets, but I had special relationships with both of them. They have been steady, dependable companions, and their loss is difficult.