See the birdie?

The joke will be on you. And you won't mind at all.

See the birdie?

Felix never leaves his cage/tree stand area without Taxi Service. He rarely gets on the floor, and only flies if Dad's proximity requires it. Until he doesn't.

I'm busy practicing my speech for Long Island and realize after the end of the second run-through and two hours of not paying attention that Felix isn't anywhere. I call out, "Felix!"

He calls back, "See the birdie?"

Lord have mercy. We have hardwood floors and open concept and very few things hanging off the walls. I paint murals because parrots can't pull down a mural. Our house echos like a cavern in Kentucky.

I call out again, "FELIX!"

"See the birdie?" He voice bounces and mocks me with angles of lies. I think he's over there by the couch. Nope. "Felix!!"

"See the birdie?" Under the table? Nope. Behind his tree stand? Nope. Under Jamal-Pierre behind his RV? uhno.

"Felix. Come on man!"

"See the birdie?" The sound moved! I think. No, I think he really traveled again. Snickers is in his cage calling...I think he's trying to tell me where Felix is...or he just hates the lawn crew behind the house. "FELIX!" I go into the dining room. It's possible.

Bruiser is dead asleep. That's how he sleeps now being so old. Like the dead. I can de-bone a cooked chicken and that dog won't wake up. Turner is asleep, also dead.

"FELIX!!"

"KirbyKIRRRBY!! Goodboy Kirbykirby!" Wrong Bird. He's in the sink anyway trying to get the last of the peanut butter off a knife.

"Fee! Dude! Where are you?"

"See the Birdie?" Seriously. I can't find this bird! I walk back into the bird room and watch the lawn guy mow the field behind our house. It's a flood plane so it obviously recovered from the storm. I get lost in that thought for a minute. Snickers is still not impressed with the mower and Butters is still on my shoulder as she has been through this whole game of Hide n Seek. She pulls off my hair twistie and my thinking back to finding Felix. WHERE is my bird!!???

*fartsound*

He's at my feet. I think a fartsound means "TAG! You're it."

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