Creative Kids Play

My father reminded me of this story and declared it must be on the blog.

When my parents moved into their current house 25+ years ago, Mom had grand plans to move our cats down to the basement so my father, who was allergic to them, would no longer be exposed to them on a regular basis. Our basement is partially above ground and used to be rented out as an apartment. The whole house needed a lot of work when they moved in. Though technically it was finished and dry-walled, the basement wasn’t nice enough that anyone felt like hanging out in it for any amount of time.

So, of course, my mom was worried that the cats would be too lonely if we never hung out in the basement with them. She decided we needed to refinish the basement so the cats wouldn’t be lonely.

Cats’ feelings are obviously worth thousands and thousands of dollars.

My parents dropped a second stairwell down to the basement so you wouldn’t have to enter through the utility side and knocked down all the walls between the tiny rooms in the basement apartment to create one large, fantastic family room. For the cats. They pulled out the run-down kitchen and put up walls of bookcases. They put couches around a big tv and a pre-existing fireplace. They put in new carpeting. There was also a full bath and bedroom in the basement, though it was mostly used for storage and later parrot breeding. Yes, parrot breeding. I guess I’ll have to talk about that later.

The cats’ basement turned out amazing. Clearly these cats would never be lonely because we were going to spend a lot of time in this area. In addition to a media area, there was space for a home office and a toy room. When we were kids, it was probably the best place in the house. It was really nice. In fact, it was probably a little TOO nice.

After spending thousands and thousands of dollars so the cats wouldn’t be lonely, my mom decided that the cats, who sometimes had accidents/marked their territory as cats are wont to do, would ruin the basement. That’s right, the “cats’ basement” was too nice for the actual cats.

And so, the cats stayed upstairs where my allergic dad (and later allergic my sister and I) slept while the basement became a cat-free zone.

So instead of getting rid of the cats so my dad (and my sister and I) wouldn’t feel sick, my parents spent thousands of dollars to keep them and keep people healthy, but then kept the cats where they would make people sick anyway.

If that’s not devotion to ones’ pets, I don’t know what is.

At various points in my life, there’s been talk of not replacing the cats when they die so the allergic people won’t feel sick. This has never come to pass. My parents currently have two indoor cats years and years and YEARS after those original lonely basement cats have died.

And my dad can blame my mom for the current cats all he wants, we all know that he’s deeply in love with both of them despite his allergies.

Next Thursday in “My Crazy Childhood”: You know what you should keep in the house when you are trying to sell a house? Buckets of live bait for your rescue bird.

Today’s tale of animal insanity is actually 75% due to people other than my mother, if you can believe it.

You already know what happened when the horse and the miniature horse got lonely, so I bet you can guess what happened when the peacock got lonely.

I'm sure you find peacocks on your car all the time!

But, wait, you say, who the hell has a peacock on their property anyway? My mother, that’s who. What’s funny, though, is that my mom had nothing to do with the first peacock coming on her property. Believe it or not, other people collect strange pets too– and in stranger ways than my mother does.

My parents’ land is part of an old family farm with houses clustered together around a barn. It’s really a strange arrangement. Originally my parents had purchased a 2 acre parcel of the property with one house and one tiny barn on it, but several years ago two adjacent portions of the family farm with two houses, several outbuildings and 8 acres of hilly pasture became available. My parents bought the properties and now rent out the two houses that came with them.

The people who live in the rental houses live very near the barn– closer to it than my parents do, and get to live in the country and feel like they have horses even though they just happen to be renting next door to a stable.

One of my parents’ tenants decided such a life required that he get a peacock. True, he has nowhere to take this peacock if he ever stops renting. True, this peacock will probably always live on my parents’ farm. These facts didn’t stop the man, and certainly my mother wasn’t going to say no to another unusual animal joining her brood. The man bought a baby peacock named Phoenix.

See? Other people buy strange animals too sometimes!

Anyway, Phoenix the peacock boards for “free” at my mother’s stable. Mom’s tenant built him his own little roost and Phoenix has the run of the property.

When Phoenix had been around for about a year, he started getting lonely. Like the miniature horse, he showed his loneliness by acting out.

Like lonely horses, lonely peacocks hang out with llamas.

To show his angst, the peacock started flying up to the horses and pulling their tails.

No really.

Needless to say, that’s not a smart thing for a peacock to do. In fact, my mom was sure he would get kicked to death at any minute. So, she decided something should be done. Obviously, the peacock would behave himself if he had a friend. Based on what, I don’t know. But this is what she decided.

Mom told her friend C, the owner of Annabelle the miniature donkey, she thought Phoenix the Peacock needed a friend. C used to board a horse at my mom’s farm, but the horse passed away last year. She didn’t buy a replacement horse and the only thing bringing her back to mom’s property is a) friendship and b) a miniature donkey. The donkey can’t be ridden. Annabelle just exists to be cute. So she’s keeping Annabelle at my mom’s stable for the price of food. I give you this background because of what happened next.

C decided she should be the one to buy Phoenix a lady peacock friend. The lady peacock would live on the property indefinitely as C doesn’t own her own stable or have any place to put a peacock (or a donkey, for that matter).

Two peacocks in love. At least, I think it's those two...

Do you know how much adult peacocks cost? It’s kind of crazy. My pure-bred Australian shepherd (bred by my mom) could have easily gone for $800, probably double that in a pet store. An adult peacock is $80.

That’s right, for less than $100 you could also have a peacock. Isn’t that insane? I would have thought an exotic-ish bird like that would cost far more. My mother used to breed exotic parrots (African greys and ruby macaws) that went for more than $1,000 in the 1980s and ’90s. I can not believe a peacock only cost $80!

What’s even more surprising is that a baby peacock costs even less. The breeder was selling baby peacocks for $25.

I think that bears repeating as a surprising statement: My DOG costs $800, but a baby PEACOCK costs $25.

In what world does that even make sense?!

Armed with this knowledge, my mom and her friend C both decided they couldn’t pass up a good deal and thus bought two baby peacocks in addition to the lady peacock Penelope. “What choice did we have?” says my mother.

Four peacocks, just like the ones you undoubtedly have at home.

“How could I pass up a $25 peacock?” says my mother.

And thus, because of the peacock was lonely and no one can pass up a $25 peacock, my mother now has four peacocks wandering around her property probably permanently even though only one of the peacocks is actually hers.

In case you were wondering, yes. My mother was right. The peacock was acting out because he was lonely. Now that the peacock has friends, he no longer picks on the horses.

That’s my last lonely animal tale, but I’ll have another “My Crazy Childhood” story for next week. Yes, the last three stories have not technically been from my actual childhood, but believe me they are par for the course of things that happened living with my mother as a child!