Home Sweet Home

there is nothing unusual about this house

"There is nothing unusual about this house," I repeated.

"Why would you even say that?"

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She shook her head.

"Oh, I don't know. Other than the fact that a crow just flew into the kitchen and landed on that bird perch next to you."

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I sipped my beer, trying to ignore Russell, who had just flown in.

"What crow?"

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Russell walked to the edge of the perch and crowed as loudly as he could, right next to my ear.

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"That crow," Betty pointed out, as i tried to stop the ringing in my ear.

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I nodded.

"That's not really a crow," I grimaced, as I turned to Russell.

"That is dinner."

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Russell crowed and crapped on the floor.

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I looked at the shit on the floor and back to Russell.

He was smiling.

"Yep."

I turned to Betty again.

"Would you like to stay for dinner. I make a mean crow stew."

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Betty looked shocked.

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Russell laughed.

"You can hardly toast bread."

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I glared at Russell.

Betty let out a little shriek.

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"Oops," Russel said, quickly.

"I mean, caw."

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Betty pointed at Russell.

"He talks?"

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I shook my head.

"No, well sometimes he does vocalize a little."

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Russell nodded.

"Yes. Some ... times ... i ... speaka ... da ... English."

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I turned.

"Really. A Spanish accent."

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"Well what did you expect? I didn't know we had company."

He crapped on the floor.

"Shit."

He flew to the counter and pulled off a piece of paper towel with his beak and then attempted to clean up the crap on the floor.

"Yuk," he squawked, spitting out the paper towel.

"Smells like shit."

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I cleaned up the rest, as Russell jumped back up on the perch.

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"He does talk," Betty said, amazed.