Sunday, November 23, 2008

The Country Life

I am enjoying the quiet country life. It is very different from my former life in the city. There was always a lot of activity there. There were lots of interesting noises to listen to, like sirens and car honks. There were lots of interesting things to look at outside my window, too, like cars and people. But there were also lots of cats and dogs, and I had to do a lot of squawking to keep them away from my window. Here in the country the noises are much quieter. There aren’t any sirens. There are cars, but not so many, and they don’t honk. So far I haven’t seen any cats or dogs come by my window. Sometimes I see foxes, though, and I have to squawk at them. I liked the noisy city life, and I like the quiet country life, too. I can be happy in either place, as long as I have water in my water bottle and pellets in my food dish. What about you—do you prefer city life or country life?

2 comments:

Uncle Kit said...

Country life, definitely. By the way, rumor has it you may be moving a short distance. Keep us posted on the details, especially from the parrot's point of view, ok?

Oh, and caulking is nothing like squawking, but it can lead to squawking if something goes wrong and you make a mess.

Anonymous said...

Shadow,

I like city life. In the country, I have to walk in grass and I get it caught in my curls. Sometimes the grass is too tall, and it pokes me in the eye, or even worse, it has twigs hidden in it and I trip. In the country, my feet get dirty on the dirt roads, and the puddles are everywhere. In the winter, there is snow and ice on my steps and on every bit of ground where I need to walk. My person never gets rid of it all. Back in the city, there were sidewalks, and they didn't hide too many surprises. In the country, there aren't as many peemails from other dogs, either. News is scarce. There is difference between city mice and country mice, too, namely here in the country, I have to live with them and chase them from my food dish. In the city, there were groomers; I hated them, but I always knew when I was going there for the torture. Here there is only my person, and she surprises me out of a good nap to dump me in the sink for a bath or to try to cut my hair or my nails. I'd rather go back to the city, but my person likes it here. You and I both know, wherever our person is is where we want to be.

Cody