Dangling birdy barf

I guess I was just a leeeeeeeetle hyped up about Pickles yesterday. I really want to get him all squared away with a birdy buddy. When I get an idea in my head that involves a new pet, I'm ON IT. I had thought of calling the lady at the good parrot store where I got Toby, but she wasn't going to be there until later. I wanted to get a new bird NOW if I could. So I went to the shitty pet store where I usually get Rosie's crickets. I hadn't given her dinner in a little over a week so I needed to go to that pet store anyway and it's right on the way home. The reputable store is far away, of course. So I thought I'd give this shithole a try since they always have plenty of lovebirds. It being so close gave me time to run home and get my birdy so that I could see if he got along with any of their birds.

The store is run by a woman who I like to call "Backwoods Bitch". Two words...NINE CATS. Anyone with nine fucking cats has problems. Anyway, I don't know why I went there expecting any help whatsoever, as this woman has always been kinda rude and her employees don't know their asses from a hole inna ground (I love that statement). I made the mistake of asking one of her employees if I could bring in my bird. I should have gone directly to Backwoods 'cause it would have saved me time and gas. Of course when I arrive at the store with Pickles, the woman I'd asked is gone. Backwoods is busy so one of her teenage employees tried to help me. Tried. I asked him if we could put my bird in a separate, divided cage with each of the four lovebirds that they had in stock. I explained my situation, that I needed a mate for my nuerotic, spoiled bird, that he has to pick it out...blah blah. The kid was stumped. He understood what I wanted, but didn't know how to deliver. He was like, "Uhhh...where should we put them...duhhhh...." I'm like, "Do you have any extra cages in the back?" This is a fucking PET STORE. HELLO! DO YOU HAVE A SPARE FUCKING CAGE????

By this time Backwoods saunters over. I explain the situation to her. The whole time I'm talking to her, she's got this expressionless look on her face. I can't explain it...she's always been that way. One of those people with no sense of humor, no personality and NINE CATS. When I'm done she simply states, "Well, I hope you're not planning on getting one of these guys because they're already paired." Uhhh...okay, bitch, that's not what your stupid employee said, but oh well. I didn't tell her this, I just stood there and said..."Oh". I didn't really have a chance to say anything because she started giving me bum advice. She's telling me that I should try getting another kind of bird and putting him in with it 'cause it doesn't HAVE to be another lovebird 'cause she has three different birds in one cage and they all get along fine but she never closes the cage door and she lets them fly around the house and walk on the floor and they're fine with her NINE CATS and the dog and the rats even when she's not home and she's never had a problem 'cause she trusts them and blah blah blah... By this time I'm not listening because she is obviously not going to help me. She's ONE OF THOSE... One of those weird, hoarding pet owners who never knows when to quit and who "doesn't believe" in keeping birds in cages. These "no cages for MY bird" types make me feel guilty sometimes. Then I justify it to myself by thinking that my birds get plenty of attention and out of cage time. It's like crate training a dog, it's good for them to have a safe place to go while you're away or don't feel like dealing with birds flying and shitting all over the house. Anyway, needless to say I left with my 53 cent crickets (it probably irks the hell outta her that I only stop in every once in a while to get three lousy crickets) and nothing else. Yes, thanks a lot for NOTHING, BACKWOODS BITCH!

On my way home I was able to get ahold of the nice, knowlegable lady at the reputable store and she is going to help me find Pickles a suitable cagemate. Now why in the hell didn't I do that in the FIRST place??? I got impatient again. I am letting a bird get to me. I'm losing my mind. It's just...it's just that I want him to be haa-peeee. He will be. I'll get him help now. I've tried all I can by myself. I just can't be what he wants me to be...I can't fit into his cage! Hehe, that's a funny picture... Me all squished in Pickles' cage with him on my shoulder nibbling from a little pile of birdy barf dangling from my earlobe. Mmmm... Not a good way for me to spend the day.