Bird request puts her in the doghouse

Okay, maybe I tweaked it a little bit, but the essence is there ....

Me: I had the best interview the other day. This lady raises Cavalier King Charles spaniels and ...

Terry: No.

Me: What do you mean no? I didn't ask anything. It's jut that they were soooo cute and they have these huge brown eyes and they're so calm and sweet and ...

Terry: No.

Me: Why do you keep saying no? It's not like I'm asking you to buy me one! You know we only get pound puppies or rescued dogs.

Terry: (relaxing slightly) Oh.

Me: Of course, she does foster rescued Cavaliers ...

Terry: No! We already have two rescued cats and one rescued miniature schnauzer and if you get any more rescued pets, someone is going to have to rescue me!

Or you ...

Me: Oh, all right.

Intermission, while I pretend to read my book and my husband pretends he doesn't know what's coming next.

Me: I went by the alpaca show today ...

Terry: NO!

I can't really blame him for getting concerned when I cover things like dog breeders and livestock shows, because I always come back wanting souvenirs. Living, breathing souvenirs. When we were in Alabama, part of my beat was covering the animal shelter and taking the Pet of the Week photo.

I always, always fell in love with the pet of the week and I always tearfully told the animal control person, "If no one adopts him by Friday, let me know and I'll come get him."

Luckily for my husband, the Pet of the Week always got adopted, up until our last month there, which was how we got Jack Dragon, the geriatric police school dropout who talked like Scooby Doo. He wasn't with us long, but those last two years of his life were golden for all of us. He was a gentleman of a dog.

But if I'd had my way, I'd now be the proud owner of a papillon, a miniature donkey, a llama, an alpaca, a Friesian, a Vanner horse, a hedgehog, a Great Dane, a Jacob's ram (four horns -- totally cool!) and an entire herd of Tennessee walking horses.

All rescues, of course.

One of the best parts of my job is that even though I don't get to take home all these wonderful critters, I get to meet the people who take care of them. I get to play with the animals, enjoy their personalities and their beauty, and I never have to clean up their messes, pay their vet fees or wonder if the Humane Society is stalking me.

I also get to discover which of these exotic creatures don't make good pets. I've been stepped on by ostriches, growled at by emus and pecked by enough chickens and ducks to know that the only way poultry is getting near my house is frozen and filleted. I am just not a bird person.

I did have parakeets growing up with the highly imaginative names of Pete and Polly, and another pair in college named Stan Lee and Stella. Before I got Stella (big mistake), I'd taught Stan Lee to shriek the rallying cry of the Marvel Comics head honcho he was named for: "Excelsior!"

My dorm mates were not amused.

I wouldn't mind having a bird again (small, indoor and not ostriches, emus or chickens) and even thought about adopting one of the ones recently rescued here in Bedford County.

My husband, who has always wanted an African grey parrot, agreed. Buzz thought it was a cool idea and Ben said he didn't mind, as long as he didn't have to clean out the cage.

Too funny. Ben. Cleaning. Bwahahahaha!

Yeah. That's gonna happen.

Then I surveyed the rest of the household about adopting some rescued birds.

Needless to say, the kitties were thrilled with the idea.

Needless to say, we chose to save an abandoned animal's life -- by not adopting it.