“Could you make me an ice pack Big Guy?” groaned Pavo Rotti , staring lopsidedly between the bars of his cage. “And while you’re at it, make one for Mrs. Big Guy too?”

“What’s the problem budgie buddy?”

“I’ve got a headache that would stop a freight train.”

“Sorry to hear that pal. I’ll see what I can do.”

I found a soft blister pack from a vitamin pill package and filled it with a few chips shaved off an ice cube. I attached it to the top of his head with a tiny tot adhesive bandage.

“I don’t have much sympathy for you Pavo. You’ve got it coming after the way you acted yesterday.”

“But I was only taking my clue from your guests.”

“Those weren’t guests Pavo, those were family. You have to make some allowances for relatives.”

“I thought you told me once that an allowance was money given for good behavior. Your relatives should have been arrested and put in jail.”

“No. I mean allowance, like in leeway.”

“I’m glad they’re not my relatives Big Guy. By the way, why were they here?”

“Big Boris is my nephew. Lil’ Loris is his wife. I invited them for the holiday, to break our bread, sip our spirits, and share our gratitude.”

“But all she did was complain about the relatives who weren’t here. And all he did was drink and drowse, and burp and belch in front of the TV all afternoon.”

“But it was quiet after he passed out, wasn’t it?”

“A small favor. And what was the creature covered with tattoos and sporting multiple nose rings, a circus clown?”

“No. That was Bambi, their teen-age daughter. She’s making a statement Pavo. All teenagers make statements.”

“Looked more like a loud exclamation to me. And they could’ve left those little hummers home too.”

“You’re too sensitive Pavo. That was the nine year old twins Barney and Bernie showing their childlike curiosity and creativity. I like that in kids. And there were only a few small accidents.”

“Third time was no accident. Those delinquents kept tipping my cage over to see if I could get away from Phallix the cat. My composure is now shot, along with my tail feathers.”

“Be charitable Pavo. Why can’t you just credit their actions to the natural exuberance of youth.”

“I would have Big Guy until they put me in the fishbowl to see if I could swim. Poor Miss Goldie almost had a heart attack.”

“But you got out okay, right?”

“Phallix the cat fished me out. But his intentions were not pure I’m not afraid to say. I was lucky to escape. Fortunately, the same moment he opened up to put the bite on me, they let in Phydeaux your puckish poodle. While Phallix was scrambling to the top of the refrigerator he let go of me by accident. I barely made it back to my cage.”

“But they did stop playing with you after a while.”

“Long enough to write on the new living room wallpaper with those fluorescent crayons. Then they left my cage door open.”

“Why didn’t you just stay put.”

“By that time I was dehydrated from the exercise Big Guy. After they tipped over my cage there was no water left. I needed something to drink. I found Boris asleep in front of the football game on TV and took a couple slugs from the glass resting on his belly.”

“But he was drinking my fourteen year old scotch.”

“Now you tell me Big Guy. Not only was I still thirsty after I got my drink, but it left me with this humungous hangover.”

“I saw your aerial exhibition. Precision flying it was not.”

“But I wasn’t deliberately flying under the influence Big Guy. Those were evasion tactics. Those little ankle snappers were trying to bring me down with a squash racket.”

“How did you get away?”

“Hid behind the valance on the drapes until you big guys sat down to eat. I reeled back to my cage while the food fight was on. I never stayed awake long enough to see the mess.”

“It wasn’t so bad. My soul mate has a new all purpose cleaner that took most of the cranberry juice out of the damask tablecloth. And the yams and turkey gravy wiped clean from the new wallpaper with a few swipes of a sponge.”

“I still don’t understand why you invited them here.”

“There’s been a lot in the news lately about the importance of family values and I felt it was a good time to share with other members of my own. So I invited them to have Thanksgiving with us because we all know that good food and good company make for good friendships. And the family that prays together, stays together.”

“I don’t know Big Guy. I would have prayed for a different result.”

“Sorry Pavo. I guess it was tactless of me to invite my relatives without thinking about how it might affect you. I keep forgetting that you’re without kith or kin locally.”

“Except for a an old buddy I met at a farm in Iowa while I was on my way east from the left coast. But our paths crossed too briefly yesterday.”

“See Pavo. Then you do have something to be thankful for. You got to share a few moments of Thanksgiving with a former acquaintance.”

“Not so fast Big Guy. It was my old friend Tom the turkey. I recognized his tattoo. I only caught a glimpse of him on the platter just before you served him as your main course.”


About D. B. Guy

ex-traveler, ex-Navy vet, ex-depression baby, long time retiree, current lounge chair occupant, husband, grandfather, computer novice-junkie, man-about-town(ret.), jolly good fellow
This entry was posted in My Pal Pavo. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Thanks

  1. Jean says:

    Dear Mr. Guy,

    Priceless! This post with Pavo is a classic. For sure it is the best one yet.

    Uh, who is hosting your family Christmas dinner this year?



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