9 May 2013

And Then My Feathered Friends….

If you get bored with wot's below bob over here and read the piece by Mr Lilley who may well become my new bestest pretend friend.

Now I'll humbly continue. 

With the weather being seasonably warm these past slack hand-full of days, it’s been almost a full time job, in my capacity as a modern day St Francis On-a-Seesaw, keeping the miniature garden water feature topped up as my little, and not so little, feathered friends have been taking full advantage of it to shower and slake their thirst.

Shower and drink?  Drink after all those other guys have bathed in there?  I’ve tried it, accidentally, and don’t recommend it at all.  My bath, by the way, not the bird bath.  You’d have to be pretty parched to drink from a bird bath……
Anyhoo, that clicked something way at the back of the brain which goes something like this;  {Did I mention it’s an old one?  I did, diddle I?}

Once upon a time a young couple had a baby of the boy type. The baby, boy type, once crawlingly mobile, liked nothing better than exploring in the garden.  Once walking, the mummy and daddy couldn’t help but notice the little lads liking for the bird bath as he always made a bee line for it.

With the rapid improvement in the baby boys mobility and climbing skills, the parents, one day, saw he’d climbed into the bird bath and, much to their amusement, was happily splash about with the birds.

The parents amusement slowly turned to worry as time passed and the boy persisted in spending his outdoor time with the birds in the bath.  So worried did the folks become they finally decided to seek the advice of a psychiatrist.

They explained the situation to the psychiatrist who weighed up the information and then gave his 'expert' advice.
"Do you have a garden shed?" enquired the trick-cyclist.
"That we do." answered daddy.
"Well, I think what you should do, over a period of time, is move the bird bath a little closer to the shed each evening when the little fellow's in bed.  Finally, move the bath into the shed. The little guy, seeing the bird bath has gone, may fret for a few days but will then start to find other, more normal, little boy stuff to do."

Following the trick-cyclists advice, this they did, and after three weeks re-visited the trick-cyclist to communicate the results.
"Did you follow the plan as laid-out last visit?"
"That we did." said dad.
"And how did the little chap react when he saw the bird bath had gone?"
"He flew away." 

Quote;  Ambrose Bierce.

Magpie, n.: A bird whose theivish disposition suggested to someone that it might be taught to talk.

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