On July 2nd, we headed out to the town of Oconomowoc, Wisconsin in all our glorious -- er, glory to participate in their Independence Day parade. Perhaps you were there cooling in the shade of a tree as we rushed along through the hot, steamy, baking, roasting--and did I mention "HOT"? --streets. Our party included two going-on elder adults (I say with all the fondness I possess for David and Kathy, but, hey, they are grandparents and for people it takes some age to get to that point), one younger adult, two lovely teenage girls, one pre-teen, one preschooler, and one baby. (All but the lovely teenage girls are Gee family descendants. Ain't they all lucky?) And that's not even the animals, eh!
Well, on to the animals! Of course, I (Asimov, the umbrella cockatoo) was there in all my splendor, and so was Shiblon, the Angora goat; Obadiah, the Oberhasli goat; Liahona, the llama; and Moses, the miniature donkey.
We all got shuffled around to different handlers for various reasons. I, for example, was ousted from the wagon because the two-and-a-half-year-old was struggling to keep up. It was okay with me because it was hard to keep hold of my perch in that wagon while we were jolting along. Plus, I mean, I'd always rather be held anyway. And, I understand about short legs. I tell you, preschoolers and birds are not made for long-distance walking.
The other difficulty was Moses. Adorable, braying, silly Moses refused to walk through the middle of the street. He was switched from a teenager to Kathy and she coaxed him along. And then, all of a sudden, those humans caught on. His problem? The man-holes were scaring the tar out of him. And who can blame him? The very name suggests dropping to your doom. We animals know that you people think only in terms of yourself linguistically-speaking, so in our heads we just tack right on man/donkey/horse/etc.-holes and we say, "If you think I'm going over that death trap, you, my friend, have another think coming!" As a bird, of course, I don't take issue with these sorts of things and I don't feel the need to add myself to that list. If everybody had wings, you all would be better off.
Besides the man-hole dilemma faced by confused humans, the other funny thing was watching poor Keegan (the young adult I mentioned) wearing jeans, t-shirt, socks, and tennis shoes with a baby strapped to her person and pulling the wagon with her older son and all the extra flyers and cards in it. Okay, so I felt pity for her on that sauna of a day. And I felt grateful that I have not had any offspring and that even if I did, we parrots don't work that way. But I about died laughing when a (shirtless, shoeless, shorts-clad) man drinking some (probably ice-cold) beverage, sitting in the shade said with a smile, "Hot day, isn't it?" And oblivious Keegan said mildly, "Yup, pretty hot." She didn't make the connection until much later that he was being ironic. But I am more astute than she is. Whoever that dude is, he should come visit the farm and give me a few more laughs. Sometimes you humans are too much fun!
