Scary bird

George the border collie got a souvenir from Maine last week. My husband bought him a stuffed bird from the gift shop on Cadillac Mountain at Acadia National Park. We visited there early last Friday and took a walk around the trails at the top of the mountain, stopping afterward at the gift shop for coffee and for a look around.

This isn’t just any stuffed bird. It’s an Audubon real-life sound peregrine falcon and George is almost afraid of it.

To listen to the cry of a peregrine falcon, click here and scroll down to 'Calls'. Warning: turn down your speakers. I cannot stress this enough. Our stuffed bird has 3 seconds of screech, then a pause, then 3 seconds more. And believe me, it’s more than enough.

Even in the store, George was wary of this new gift. He really didn’t want to have anything to do with him while we were in Maine.

Fast forward to this week and we find George preferring the scary bird over all the others from the toy box. I’ve been calling it scary bird when I play with him and when he chooses the bird from among the other toys in the box, he picks it up very very gently. I think that he finds the screech as annoying as I do.

But let’s get back to the story.

Last night, my husband and I were sitting in the living room watching Wipe Out and suddenly George wakes up and wants to play. Yes, we watch Wipe Out. It’s our secret obsession. Well, I guess it’s not so secret anymore, but any show that makes my husband laugh out loud is The Best Thing Evah in my book, so we watch the show every night it’s on. And well, here’s how the whole toy conversation went down:

(Aren’t you glad you come here? A thrill a minute, I tell you.)

HIM: George, go get your Paraguay falcon.

George looks at my husband, turns his head to the side and begins wagging his tail.

HIM: George, go get your Paraguay falcon.

George continues to look at my husband, still wagging the tail and waiting.

ME: Um, honey. I don’t think he calls it that.

HIM: Yes he does. We’ve been tossing it around this week. (Repeats the order).

George continues to look confused yet there’s a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. He has no idea what toy his master is asking for.

ME: Well, maybe he knows that it’s not a Paraguay falcon and that it’s really a peregrine falcon.

HIM: He knows what it is.

ME: It’s a peregrine falcon. Per-a-grin falcon.

HIM: Yeah. What I said. A Paraguay falcon.

ME: George, go get your scary bird.

George runs over to the toy, picks it up gently, trots back to me and deposits the toy in my lap.

ME: It’s scary bird. Just call it that, honey.

And so christens the new toy. They all must have names, you know. A border collie has a huge vocabulary but you have to keep at it.

As I write these words, I wonder where in heaven’s name my mind has gone to be writing this kind of drivel for all to see and sharing pictures of what amounts to be chewed dog toys.

I may need help.