Attack Of The Parrot

Today marks the death of my father, David Guajardo. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t stop and think about him. Knowing that I will see him again has helped the tears turn to smiles and ease the pain in my heart. The greatest blessing of all is knowing that his soul lives forever and for that I am ever grateful.

I was recently asked to write a short funny story for a young adult writing class I am taking. It had to be about something from my teen years. So in honor of my father, I am posting this funny story that actually happened while we were young. He loved his parrot so much that he requested that we take care of her after he passed. Now I have the honor of caring for her. By the way, don’t tell my brother, he will kill me for posting this!!

“Watch out! Coqueta got out of the cage,” my dad yelled from the laundry room.

I looked up from the couch, and like a flash of light, the bird soared through the living room, dodging the walls and other furnishings. Immediately, I dunked down, avoiding her path. She squawked and yelled and what I can only assume was, “Free at last, free at last.”

My mother gasped. “The ceiling fan! Turn it off, hurry.” She ran to the wall and flipped off the switch.

My brother dashed into the room, the unsung hero he was. “I’ll stop the fan.” When the fan slowed some he reached up and grabbed a blade, forcing it to stop abruptly. My dad chased after her going from room to room and then realized he would have to wait until she landed somewhere to catch her.

The bird took a quick pit stop on the overhead kitchen pot rack and left a present behind on the kitchen island. “Oh crap,” my mom complained, scurrying over to grab the bleach from the laundry room.

My brother proceeded to walk out of the room, his duty done, when the bird took flight again. This time she was headed directly toward him. He ducked averting a near collision but she circled back around. His eyes widened and he made a mad dash towards the hallway. “Oh shit,” he yelled.

“Get ‘er dad. Get ‘er off of me. Nnn….ow… pleeeeassee.” My brother’s voice was trembling and he lay flat on his stomach. We huddled in the hallway, watching Coqueta, which means flirt in Spanish, walk her way up his back slowly. She had never attacked anyone before, other than biting the hell out of a finger if you dared to stick it in her cage. We snickered under our breaths at the yelping and weeping of my brave brother’s voice. Never had we seen him so frightened in all our lives.

Coqueta, did a perfect chicken stride, sticking her neck out and arching her claws with each step she took. She pecked lightly inching her way towards his neck.

“Dad, get her off now.” My brother continued to plea, still pinned to the floor.

“Oh, what’s wrong son? Scared of little bird, are we?” My dad took the opportunity to tease and mock my brother. It was a scene I’ll never forget.

 

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