18 | March | 2021 | Spo-Reflections

“Music calms the savage beast”

I am under slept from night time tending Father. He wakes a few times in the night and calls out for help to the loo (he is blind and he needs a walker). It isn’t difficult work but the broken sleep has left me rawther tired. It’s not too cold here, nor is it snowy, but cloudy with some rain – good sleeping weather. This afternoon we will both nap.

Brother #3 et. al. is away for the weekend and there is work to be done. Besides minding Father and keeping him company, I am Pet-Master, in charge of two dogs, two cats, nine chickens, and two parakeets. The birds have the most precise needs. Princess-Goddess gave me a list of what needs to be done for Sunny and Tweety in order to keep them happy. I was instructed if the birds become agitated I am to instruct Echo to play “Hamilton”; apparently this is very soothing for peevish parakeets. I’ve been asked to sleep this evening in the spare bed in her room to keep the birds company; I will be surrounded by little girl paraphernalia, most in various shades of pink. The birds may be content with this arrangement but I will feel a bit unsettled. Parakeets need to fly about; I’m to let them out for exercise. I expressed doubts I will be able to get them back but I was assured by using a stick for perching they will obey. I have half a mind to forget about this one.

Speaking of loose birds, I must remember to bring in the chooks by sunset lest evil befall them. Rounding up chickens sounds worse than rounding up parakeets. I was not told what sort of music the chickens like – perhaps ‘Hamilton’ is for parakeets and chickens prefer Sondheim.* I once heard that hens lay more eggs with Mozart in the henhouse, but since we are up to our oxters in eggs this won’t be necessary. Perhaps some Lloyd Weber may be useful to shut down production.

The dogs have electronic collars, so they can go in/out as they wish, provided I wipe their paws upon reentry. This is a sure bet given the backyard resembles a swamp – with chickens.

The cats have the least instruction, although they are no less in need of attention. As I write this, Luna, the tuxedo cat, is trying to put herself between me and the laptop. Why do cats do this I wonder. I have an evil urge to start some Jerry Herman tunes just to see her scat.

This is going to be a long three days. In E-flat.