I’m Elsa the Amazon my master raves about. Yesterday he told as he prepared my daily meal that we were going for a ride to see Sparky. I remembered all too well the last time that happened, and it still left a bad taste in my beak, literally.
You see, last time he took me there the one named Sparky held me, I think a bit too tight for my tastes, and I let him have it on his one hand that somehow contacted my beak. Of course, I may have helped myself a little bit.
So, needless-to-say, I wasn’t fond of this “trip” we were going to take. But I played it coy with him. After all, he can’t be to blame that my nails have recently grown, and my beak has gotten sharper. I saw him leave the trailer we shared and came back with that wire cage that I think is for some four-legged creatures; definitely not for a bird like me!
He got me pinned and I had no choice to submit to going inside that cage and shut the lid, securing with some spring-loaded clasp. I was trapped and against my will going to see this Sparky person, again.
The ride in his car was always enjoyable. I just wish it wasn’t for this reason is all. I would have loved to walk in a field or park with me on his shoulder rather than go to see this Sparky and have nail and beak trimmed.
So, we ended up parking in a lot in front of this Sparky’s Bird Store. As I mentioned earlier, this wasn’t my first exposure to this place. As usual when I was carried inside, there were cages, both empty with price tags and several that were full of birds of different species and breeds. A pretty woman came and took me from him.
I remained inside this silly cage while they talked and talked and talked about nothing, I was interested in though apparently the person who was supposed to trim me hadn’t arrived yet. I felt anxious about this bit of news. I hadn’t seen Sparky yet. I wasn’t certain whether to be ecstatic or more anxious.
Finally, that pretty girl took me into another room that smelled of the same odors from that room where he goes to relive himself. I constantly heard a flushing noise coming from that room, especially at night.
But I digress. She opened the cage and threw that darn white towel over me, entrapping me and making me feel helpless. My anxiety increased ten-fold as she took back out to where the implements of torture were awaiting for me.
I then heard his unmistakable voice: Sparky was here. She released her hold on me, and I distinctly felt Sparky’s claws wrapped around my poor, helpless body. She then went to work on trimming my nails. Unlike the last time, she seemed confident about the task in front of her. The other person, who was apparently new at this did not possess this confidence.
It seemed the time it took her to do my nails were no time at all compared to last time. Sparky also seemed in a better temperament today compared to the last time. His hold on me wasn’t as tight and suffocating.
She finally finished my nails and used a grinding tool to trim back my beak. Don’t let them fool you, it’s painful and stressful for us birds. I felt the heat from this grinding tool and the high-pitched squealing sound was unnerving.
“All done,” she exclaimed as Sparky relaxed his hold on me and I was unceremoniously placed back inside that cage and whisked back to the car.
Jerry Schellhammer 