Since it was Saturday, I slept in the next morning. We had no plans. Well, that’s what I
thought, but my wife had other ideas.
“Hurry up and shower. We’ll get breakfast on the way.”
“Where are we going?”
“It’s my second wish. To find you a hobby.”
“I have a hobby, watching sports.”
“That’s not a hobby. It’s an addiction.” She waved her finger. “Something without a
sportscaster giving play-by-play reports.”
“Sounds like you need a hobby.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll find you something.”
“But I am worried.”
We drove around all day investigating hobbies that could become my passion.
Woodworking, 3D printing, engraving, photography and painting were just a few and of those
I was leaning toward woodworking, but I’d grown fond of my fingers. We stopped for a late
lunch at a wine bar and cafe. We ordered and chatted as we waited for our food. A guy with a
guitar walked in and sat down in the front. He started playing a few tunes, old stuff, what I call
good music.
I said to my wife’ “Let’s stop at a music store. I think I might want to try out a guitar.”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea. You can learn to play, and I’ll sing.”
“Hold on Kelly Clarkson. Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m just checking them out.”
“I know, I know, finish your sandwich so we can go.”
I finished quickly and we drove to Music City Guitar. Terry was all about the shape
and the curves of the guitar, while I asked a lot of questions. The salesman played well and
answered all of my concerns. He was patient as I tried half a dozen guitars. He explained the
differences in the acoustic and electric guitars, while I caressed their smooth lines, sniffed the
polished mahogany. These guitars were truly pieces of art that could be displayed like a Picasso.
That’s when I decided this was what I wanted to do in my spare time, but now I just needed to
choose a guitar.
“What do you think?” I asked Terry, but I really didn’t need her opinion because I
decided I wanted a mid-priced one, not too expensive but not cheap. I ended up spending $800,
but my guitar sounded great, and it was comfortable almost familiar to hold and most
importantly a beautiful instrument, which made Terry happy. The salesman threw in some song
books and told me about in-house lessons at Music City and the online lessons available on
YouTube.
I spent the rest of the night playing my guitar. Calling it playing might be a stretch, but
I’m sticking with those words. Two wishes down, one to go.
* * *
“My third wish is for my mom. She lives alone and I know she gets lonely.” Terry took
the car keys off the hook. “I think she needs a companion. A dog or a cat might be the perfect
choice.”
“That’s a good idea, but they require a lot of patience and time to train and care for
them.” I suggested to my wife. “What about a young adult dog that has been potty trained instead
of a puppy. Sometimes pet stores have dogs that have been returned, because they were a wrong
fit for the person. These stores will re-home the dogs with a new owner.”
Terry thought that was a reasonable idea. So, with that in mind we went pet shopping.
We stopped at four pet shops, two had pets they re-homed, but the dogs they had were too large.
We didn’t want to get an animal that would knock her down when playing or pull her arms out of
the sockets when she walked it.
On our way to the Humane Society, we stopped to get an ice cream and discuss what we
were going to do. I explained that getting a dog or cat today wasn’t absolutely necessary as long
as we narrow it down to what kind of animal would be compatible with her personality.
“Well, she’s kind of snarky.”
“Yes, kinda like you.” I laughed. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
Terry frowned. “Yes, but I’m funny snarky.”
“Yes dear, you’re hysterical.”
The Humane Society was only few blocks from the ice cream shop. We parked and
walked to the entrance. Terry was hopeful we’d find a pet there. We spent the last few days
fulfilling my wife’s wish list, and I was ready to get back to my new hobby.
Thankfully, they had two dogs and one cat that fit our requirements. All the animals here
could be adopted. I roamed around looking at the animals while Terry played with a
terrier. I noticed an animal that you rarely see up for adoption. It was a parrot, so I asked about
it. There was a sign on the cage with the name, Billy Bob. I thought that was an odd name, but
it made me chuckle. I said, “Good morning, Billy Bob.” And to my surprise he had an unusual
answer.
“Squawk, take me home I’m a used parrot.”
I laughed. One of the employees was standing nearby so I asked him about Billy Bob.
“Is this parrot up for re-homing?”
“Those terms don’t really apply to Billy Bob since this is the fourth time this parrot has
been placed with a family so we’re calling him used.” The worker straightened the sign on the
parrot’s cage. “But, yes he is available to take home.”
“Wow, four times. Is there a problem with this parrot?”
He tapped on the cage. “This bird is a highly intelligent, an independent thinker and has a
large vocabulary. He is the only parrot we have, an African Grey. We rarely have any because
they are expensive, and most people pass them down to their children.” He gave the bird some
nuts. “But to answer your question. All animals need care and some like a racehorse require
special care, but the rewards you receive far outweigh any effort you make.”
“Hmm! That’s interesting. Can he hold a conversation with someone?”
The worker said, “Oh! Yes. This bird will talk your ear off.”
“Is Billy Bob a clean bird?”
“Yes, he is normally, unless he’s upset.”
“I’m going to talk to my wife, I’ll be right back. Don’t give him to anyone.”
Not much chance of that. He said under his breath then smiled. “Certainly, I’ll put a hold
on him.”
I went to talk to Terry about Billy Bob, as a pet for her mother. She was intrigued and
agreed to come over and look at him.
Terry walked up to the cage and said, “Oh1 He’s a beautiful bird.”
“Squawk, thank you sweet one” Billy Bob fluffed his wings. “You’re a tasty treat.”
“Well, aren’t you a flirty bird?”
I laughed. “You have an admirer.”
“Tell me Billy Bob, would you like to come home with me?”
“I’ll follow you anywhere . . . Squawk.”
The banter went back and forth. I took the time to check with the guy helping us to find
out what we needed to do to take Billy Bob home with us.
He said, “Just the adoption application and a waiver.” He pulled the paperwork from a
folder. “It’s all standard stuff.”
“What’s the waiver for?”
“By signing it, you assume responsibility for the parrot.” He held the papers up.
“Standard stuff as I said before.”
I took the forms and tapped Terry on the shoulder. “I have the paperwork. What do you
want to do?”
“Well, I just think he’s adorable. Perfect for my mom.”
“A parrot is an unusual pet. I just want you to be sure before we take him home.” I
scratched my head. “Do you think we should ask your mom? She’s expecting a dog or cat. A
parrot might be a shock.”
“I don’t see anything to worry about. He’ll be less trouble than a puppy.” She patted me
on the shoulder. “Fill out the paperwork, while I talk to Billy Bob.”
I completed the forms, and we walked out with the bird and a list of instructions for his
care. “Are we dropping him off tonight?” I bumped the cage on the door as I set it in the back
seat.
“Squawk! Easy, junior, I’m breakable.”
Terry took the paperwork. “I thought we’d wait till tomorrow, then I can spend
time with mom, so she can become used to her new pet.” Terry clasped her hands. “This is so
exciting. I can’t wait for her to meet Billy Bob. It will be magical.”
“Not sure about that, but I know it will be memorable.”
“Squawk . . . I’ll drive.”
I laughed. “Not today, Billy Bob.” I started the car and drove out of the parking lot.
As we entered the roundabout, the parrot squealed. “Watch out for that car.”
“No worries, I got this.”
Billy Bob squawked, “You’re going too fast. Slow down.”
“Wow. Terry, it seems like he’s been trained by you.”
“Ha! Very funny, but he’s right.” Terry smiled. “Mom drives way too fast, so if she takes
Billy Bob in the car, he can keep her in line.”
“Not sure about that, but I agree she drives her car like it’s stolen.”
The bird squawked, fluffed his wings, picked at the cage and whistled.
“He’s a noisy ass bird.” I shook my head.
“I think he’s cute.”
“Let’s hope your mom does too.”
Terry spent the rest of the evening entertaining Billy Bob, while I tried to watch the ball
game. We found out the best way to silence the bird was to put a cover over his cage. Something
that will be helpful for Terry’s mom to know.
Early the next morning we took Billy Bob over to Betty’s, Terry’s mom. As expected, she
was surprised but intrigued as well. Billy Bob squawked out orders and snippy comments, but
Betty was feisty and stood toe-to-toe with his snarky retorts. We spent the better part of the day
there and went over the care and feeding requirements for a parrot. When it was time to leave, I
casually mentioned to Betty that if she didn’t feel comfortable, we could take him and rehome
him with someone else.
Betty said, “No, he’ll be fine. I just need to teach him my way,”
As we started to walk to the door. Billy Bob squawked. “Are you leaving me with this old
biddy?”
Betty answered. “This old lady is the one who’s going to feed you. Think about that.”
“Wish granted.” Terry turned to me and whispered. “A match made in heaven.”
“We’ll, this was an interesting couple of days.” I smiled. “I wonder who sent the key?”
“Hmm! We may never know. It’s a crazy world out there.” Terry shrugged.
“I know it wasn’t me.” I picked up my guitar.
“Of course not, dear.”
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