OTHER PEOPLE'S PET

Auckland Star, Volume LXVII, Issue 175, 25 July 1936, Page 3 (Supplement)

OTHER PEOPLE'S PET

BIRD THAT FLEW AWAY. A FEATHER IN HER HAT. (By BETTY HART-SMITH.) "Where shall I leave Tiki while I'm away in Sydney?" sighed Mrs. FrithMashley. Tiki is a green budgerigar, one of those popular parakeets who have lately ousted the canary from suburban verandahs.

I nudged Ethel's foot beneath the table and avoided her eye. Here was the "catch in it somewhere" I had gloomily predicted when our hostess invited us to afternoon tea. Only the most skilful diplomacy, I realised, would rescue us from becoming Tiki's guardians during the next month or two.

"Mr. Barker would keep Tiki in his aviary," pursued Mrs. F.M., "but his ibirds are so untamed —Tiki might lose all his pretty little ways," she finished plaintively.

In his tasselled cage the budgerigar nibbled curiously at a band of silver on lis leg.

"Kiss pretty budgie boy!" he said suddenly. He hopped neatly up his little wooden ladder and repeated the invitation from the top rung. Memories of past misfortunes with other people's pets steeled me against Ms attractions, but Ethel was obviously covetous. Too late to remind her of Miss Pearson's goldfish and how though we exercised it in the bath every day—it passed into a coma and died the day before Miss Pearson came home. Also the seven tadpoles which declined to remain in this interesting stage of evolution—and consequently their jam jar—till their owner returned. And the Birtles' cat, Thomas —a singular creature who became plural.

The Offer Accepted. "He wouldn't be very much trouble, ' began Ethel weakly. Mrs. F.M. swiftly accepted our "too kind" offer to house her pet. "You'll become quite attached to him," she assured us. "Such an affectionate little fellow!"

In illustration, she advanced to the cage, pressed her mouth to the bars and "lade a clucking noise with her tongue. Tiki sidled up and nibbled delicately at her lip. "Do let me try," begged Ethel. Ethel prides herself that all dumb creatures "take to" her instinctively.

Tiki hopped prettily to her' proffered mouth, changed his mind, and bit her savagefy on the nose. "Perhaps your glasses irritated him, consoled Mrs. F.M.

However, I must allow that it takes more than a slight misfortune like this bp shake Ethel's purpose —especially when she is in the wrong —and next

afternoon found Tiki playfully scattering his seed husks over our sitting room carpet. Ethel soon succumbed once more to his attractions. Watching his antics one day, she said: "He's much more companionable and entertaining than your canary, anyway!" "My canary," I replied, "has all the aloof 'dignity of the true prima donnahow can you compare her with a mere vaudeville performer?" Perhaps Ethel's eagerness to display Tiki's friendliness made her less cautious as she opened his door and thrust her hand boldly inside. There was a whirr of wings, a flash of green, as he slipped past her hand and away through ths open window. Ethel shrieked as we sped gardenwards in vain pursuit. "What will Mrs/ F.M. say," she moaned. "She'll be back on Tuesday." "He's not lost yet," I encouraged briskly. _ . . . But there was no sign of Tiki in the garden. Ethel ascended bravely into the near tree after what proved to be only" a green leaf the last gale had left behind. Through the adjoining paddock we passed—waist high in gummy paspalum grass —to seek assistance from our neighbour. "Ow," she said. "He wouldn t have much chance if he came 'in here—poor little thing—what with the cats around. They're wonderful hunters!" she assured us proudly.

Where is Tiki? Two days passed. We stored Tiki s cage in the boot cupboard as a gesture of defeat. "Xever mind," I consoled Ethel. Perhaps he'll mate with a nice hen sparrow. Then there'll be dear little, er spadgies, flying around." ' On the third morning Mr. McFee called in to say that "a crood o' sparrows" had "jist chased a wee boodgie into yon glasshoose!" Ethel nearly embraced him in her excitement."With a silver band on its leg?' she demanded breathlessly. "Aye," said ]Vtr. "but withoot a tail," he added. It was Tiki, sadly chastened by his brief venture into a world which lacked not only brothers of his kind, but little pannikins of bird seed (grade A) and pieces of cuttlefish bone to scrape his beak on.. "I wouldn't have believed," fretted Ethel; "that a tail could make so much difference!"

When Mrs. F.M. returned, our mingled explanations seemed strangely futile, and drifted off into little silences. But she was really quite charming about it all, and possibly I only imagined that she regarded the absence of Tiki's tail with the deepest suspicion. We were quite relieved when she chanjred the subject. "Was it you I saw at lh-.» races on Saturday," "she inquired sweetly of Ethel, "in that smart little hat with the green feather mount!"