Today we are again delighted to be taking part in YAM-Aunty's Final Friday Fiction blog hop. Inspiration(??) comes this time from lines on P87 of 'Chocolate and Cuckoo Clocks: The Essential Alan Coren'.
Line 8: unable to apologise to her, since reconciliation was also
Line 12: Piu-Fong bowed, and began singing a song about the shortage
Line 16: time for bed; the main target of their abuse was the fact that
I, Bertie, am pleased to report that this month's story is, for once, entirely fictional (Gail has never owned a canary, nor any other caged bird). However the description of the habits of Aberdeen seagulls is most definitely grounded in reality...
Davy Learns a LessonDavy the Canary lived a pretty good life in a second floor tenement flat near Aberdeen harbour. His owner Fergus fed him a tasty and nutritious range of seeds and grains, and let him out of his cage on a regular basis, allowing him to fly around the high ceilinged living room and sit on a perch beside the window from where he could watch cranes loading the supply vessels bound for distant North Sea oil platforms.
Davy was grateful to have escaped the miserable fate of his forbears, who were so often and sometimes fatally employed as noxious gas detectors in coal mines. But one thing was missing in Davy's life - the companionship of some feathered friends.
The only other birds Davy saw from day to day were the herring gulls who flew past his window in great numbers and perched noisily on the warehouse roof opposite the tenement block. How he longed to be part of the gull gang.
It has to be said that those who live a somewhat solitary existence, separated from their own kind, often tend to develop unrealistic ideas about their station in life....
Well it so happened that the summer of 2018 was unusually warm and sunny in Northeast Scotland. So much so that one balmy evening Fergus threw caution to the wind and actually opened his living room window to let in some fresh sea air. How could he have forgotten that Davy was flitting around the room enjoying his daily exercise?
In the few moments it took Fergus to realise his error, Davy flew straight out and across the street to join the flock of gulls.
Fergus looked on distraught. But what could he do?
For so long, Davy had dreamed of the exciting times he might spend with Aberdeen's dominant bird population; of flying out to sea, cavorting with bottlenose dolphins and executing daring maneouvers in pursuit of - as he imagined it - abundant shoals of fish swimming near the surface of the salty waters.
Reality strikes hard sometimes.
This gentle wee songbird strived tirelessly to ingratiate himself with his coarser new companions. He chirped his little heart out, only to be met with rude and aggressive squawks. He soon learned that these so-called 'sea' gulls had long since abandoned the, to his mind, noble pursuit of hunting for food out on the ocean wave, in favour of raiding the bins outside the local fish processing unit and stealing packets of crisps from the city's convenience stores. Before long Davy found himself craving those tasty and nutritious meals provided by Fergus.
Worse, for 'fun' the gulls would hold competitions to see who could leave the biggest splat of guano on the cars parked by the quayside, with extra points awarded if that car was a brand new Audi, BMW or Porsche. Poor Davy tried his best, but became the target of their abuse and earned "null points" after he could only manage a dropping the size of a flattened pea, deposited on the bonnet of a rusty Skoda.
Weeks passed, and the final straw came when Davy overheard the female gulls laughing among themselves at his pathetic attempts to fit in.
Meanwhile, in the increasingly forlorn hope that his much loved canary might one day return, poor Fergus had been leaving his window open every night, despite the falling temperatures as autumn approached.
Fergus was beginning to fear he might never again see his dear little feathered pal, when all of a sudden one night when it was about time for bed, a flutter of yellow landed on his shoulder. Delighted, he exclaimed, "Oh Davy, is that really you? How I have missed you!" Davy began singing a song and, unable to apologise in words, he rubbed his head fondly against Fergus's ear.
A few days later, Fergus returned home late from work, carrying a small cage. "Look Davy, I've bought you a wee canary to keep you company. His name is Humphry".
THE (HAPPY) END.
Click here to find links to the other FFF tales.