Monday, January 4, 2016


 
THE OLD CODGER HAD AN EXPENSIVE DINNER

My daddy was the compulsive sort. Whatever idea he had in mind needed to be acted upon and acted upon immediately. When the spirit moved him, it was best to just get out of the way and let him be because nothing would stop him.  

Most of these ideas had to do with the farm. 
 This time it was peacocks.
 He decided we needed peacocks to roam about the farm for their beauty. I visualized him fantasizing about being some European gentry on his estate with exotic fauna. Mother just rolled her eyes and shook her head with that “I've been through this before” glazed look upon her face. Daddy's retort was the need to have something else for the school children, who visited the animals, to enjoy. 

After researching zoos and many telephone calls, across several states, he managed to purchase two males and their matching peahens. We kept them in cages in the barn, for a few weeks, to get them used to the area before giving them free rein to roam the farm.  When released the males paraded about the place showing off like ten year old boys in front of a gaggle of giggling girls. 
 The peahen, on the other hand, is a drab sort of creature lacking the finery of her distinguished mate. 
These drab ladies followed the males about the barnyard with admiring glances, obviously adoring every move made by these cocky show-offs. 
 The males loved the audience and spent endless hours turning and preening and spreading their fan shaped tails for their mates to admire. 
 

Peacocks are an expensive play toy. They are also a thing of beauty as they strut around the estate and a joy to hear their caterwaul from barn roof tops or around the grounds, except when the caterwaul is in the middle of the night on the roof above our heads.

Visiting school children adored the addition of peacocks to the goats, ponies, geese, deer and lamas. We began having more school trips of adoring children having free reign of the farm while the tired teachers tried to control the enthusiasm. Daddy loved the visits which was easy for him to say since he usually went somewhere else leaving me in charge of crowd control. This went well until one weaselly little boy left the gates open. Hearing some noise, I looked up to see the peacocks parading down the middle of the busy highway. Right behind them, like a pair of dutiful squaws, walked their little mousy mates. I struck out at a gallop while the teachers practiced crowd control on the squealing children .

Peacocks, for all their beauty, are lacking in brains, and impossible to herd. They went everywhere except the right way. Finally a kindly truck driver helped me retrieve the running amuck fowls.

Life went well for awhile after that until one bright moonlit night.
 We suddenly realized something was missing. 
 
There were no screams of “help, help”, like some PBS murder mystery.
  It was too quiet. 
 They were gone. 
Early the next morning, I went searching for these wanderers. The peacocks were found desolate, sitting in the tall grasses of a ditch dragging their beautiful feathers, like playboys with a hangover. They were alone. The mousy peahens were missing. I found no traces of them. Subdued and repentant the peacocks were silent all the way home, and spent the rest of the day sitting on the barn roof searching for their missing mates. There was silence all day, until the moon came out. Suddenly the peacocks sounded like a couple of drunks, sobering up, and set off the most persistent cries of their entire lives. They screamed night after night for weeks. Still we couldn't find the peahens. Mother was outdone with the whole situation and furious that the money daddy had spent on those noisy birds and their mousy mates was lost.

Weeks later, mother heard, quite by accident, that an old codger down the road, who shoots anything with wings, except buzzards, to eat, had bragged how he just happened to find sitting on his back tree two of the nicest wild turkey hens he had ever seen.
  “I fattened them up on that corn I got from Mr. Blair and they sure was tasty,” he said.

© Nippy Blair 2015. Posts and pictures on this blog cannot be copied, downloaded, printed, or used without the permission of the blog owner, Nippy Blair.

7 comments:

  1. Oh, goodness. When I lived in Kilgore out on a farm road they had peacocks. I had the best time rolling down the window and yelling, "Help, Help" and was answered in kind. I don't know if it was a good thing for the peacocks, but it surely did entertain me.

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    1. Jane. Our peacocks also answered to our calls. My brother loved to irritate Mama by making them squeal.

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  2. Oh yes! I remember these well. Mean tempered critters. Could scare you out of your skin, sneaking up behind you and screeching. Loud! Never saw the peahens, maybe they were hiding or were departed.

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    1. Charlotte, the peahens didn't live but a few weeks on the farm. They were eaten the first time they wandered off.

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  3. Oh yes! I remember these well. Mean tempered critters. Could scare you out of your skin, sneaking up behind you and screeching. Loud! Never saw the peahens, maybe they were hiding or were departed.

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  4. I remember only the peacock with the stumpy leg. What happened to the other one?

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    1. That I don't remember. Nor do I remember why he got that stumpy leg.

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