animals

The other day I went along with my friend from church to buy her parrot a girlfriend. She found a parrot-breeder who lives near her work and my house. So she asked if I wanted to come along and pick out Violetta, Kesha's new girlfriend. I love animals so I said yes. Plus I was curious to meet a parrot-breeder.

We met up after Nadya got out of work at pitch-black 5:45. When we rang the doorbell we could distantly hear chirping coming from the apartment, which increased in volume after the door was opened and we went in. Olga the Parrot Breeder is a tall woman with short blond hair, wearing only a small housedress and slippers. The apartment is very old: pre-Soviet style, with high ceilings. This one is falling apart, with parts of the walls uncovered and crumbling in the corners. It is crowded with stuff in some places and weirdly bare in others. Two fat, long-haired cats were slinking around when we left, and Olga says they are used to the parrots, having grown up with them, and have never bothered them.

The parrots are kept in one medium/small room and an attached balcony. Both sides of the rooms are lined with two levels of bird cages, and there are 2-8 birds in each cage. I very roughly estimated that she must have about 70 birds in there, and their chirping was deafening. At one point Olga closed the balcony door and the noise was instantly cut in half. I guess it's a soundproof door. There were yellow, green, light blue, dark blue, purplish, tealish, white parrots. (I just realized I guess they're parakeets. Whatever.) There were big ones and little ones, pretty ones and plain ones. Most of the cages had wooden boxes attached to them - where the nests were built for the new babies. Nadya and Olga discussed for a while what sort of bird would be suitable for Kesha, and finally chose a 3-month-old green parrot whose head will apparently be bright yellow later. Olga reached in with a parrot-net (like a butterfly net you know, but for birds), caught the bird, held it against her body while she arranged the milk carton, and then slipped Violetta in and taped it up. I noticed her housedress was rather frayed and scratched-looking, probably from lots of bird-catching. Nadya paid, took the milk carton, arranged it inside her jacket to keep Violetta warm, and we took off. The word a few days later is that after a day of shock and shyness, Violetta is well-adjusted and Kesha is happy and no longer lonely.

I came home to my second animal experience in the space of an hour. I was eating dinner and Nora the Psychotic Spaniel was watching me. I got up to get something and she started trying to climb to the table to get my food. I am running very low on patience for Nora, and I commanded her to stop and go away. Then I moved my stool out of the way so she couldn't climb it. Nora is on principle opposed to stools being dragged with one's feet, and she will bark and attack anyone who does so. Meaning, she ran for my foot and bit it. I was wearing moccasin slippers, so I didn't feel it, but this is the third or fourth time that she has attacked me, and it is getting old. My host mom ran in to see what the problem was, and after I said I had just moved the stool, she gave Nora a token scolding and said off-handedly, oh yeah, she doesn't like that. After she left I started crying.

Friends, I have had it with this animal. I know I can be vocal about my dislike for dogs, but it's more than just a deliberate dislike. I am fundamentally afraid of animals and don't know what to do about it. Believe me, this does not make my life easier and I wouldn't be this way if I could help it. I am trying to get over this, but I can't just force myself to love animals (did you catch my bold-faced lie earlier in the post?) and Nora is not helping. It seems like it should be a little thing, but she is turning into a big deal for me and my life in this apartment. I feel like we are in a psychological battle that I am losing. I have been contemplating a whole blog post devoted to Nora because I am convinced she is psychologically disturbed and Megan agrees with me. She is desperate, needy, and completely devoid of affection and normal dog traits. She doesn't wag her tail or accept petting. Her excitement is a sort of desperate, forceful frenzy with no apparent happiness involved. So anyway, I try to avoid her but the situation is tense and her attack snapped something in me. I don't know what to do. I am discouraged. Help.