Photo by Sheila Fitzgerald
My Real Memoir
Trees, chickens and geese. These were my friends. I loved them, but there was something of a communication barrier. The trees were great listeners, and happy to cradle me in their arms all day, but they said very little. The farm fowl were frequently in a fowl mood (sorry). I was fascinated with insects, but they were indifferent to me. Mice were fraidy cats, or rather afraid of the many cats that called Frieda’s Magical Garden home.
I was almost five and needed someone to play with. For a while, I hung out with a horny toad, but after a month or two he disappeared. I suppose he’d met a sweet horny lizard girl and moved away to start a family (they grow up so fast).
My baby sitter Frieda raised and sold parakeets. They lived in big walk-in cage behind her house. I’d let myself in and stick out my arms, hoping they’d land on me and nibble affectionately at my ears. But they mostly just want out.
So I set them free!
I watched with delight as half of Frieda’s 200 or so parakeets flew out the door and into the orange grove behind the house. It felt good. I was the Great Liberator of Keetkind!
Frieda didn’t agree. That was the only time I recall ever hearing her yell. Over the next few days, she and her husband Alfred plucked most of the compliant critters out of the trees and returned them to their home, where Good Ol’ Frieda cared for them and gave them three square trays of seeds a day.
Then I found two feral ranch cats wandering about in the unplanted field. They were fresh out of kittendom like me, but didn’t immediately see me as a kindred soul.
So I captured them and trapped them under a milk basket on Frieda’s front porch, putting a brick on top for good measure. When Mom came to pick me up I insisted they’d “followed me home.” So that night, she and Dad agreed to let me keep my furry new black and grey friends. I gave them the wildly inventive names of “Blackie” and “Greyie.”
Blackie and Greyie liked to eat. That was pretty much it. And then, a month later, they ran away. What can you say? The gypsy life was in their blood.
Once again I had no friends, or at least not the interactive type. Then, a few months later, I spotted a weasel in our back yard. No, it wasn’t my first friend.
But it led me to her.
My Real Memoir is a series. To read the next one, click here.
Pingback: Attack of the Giant Spider and Other Tales from My Childhood | Mitch Teemley
Sounds like fun.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love this..
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, and good to meet you, Marlene.
LikeLike
😊❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
The only friends I had at age four were my doll babies, a rolling pin that I played with in the sandbox, and the walnut trees, too big for climbing but great for shade and walnuts. When I was six, we moved to a new house where I had a squirrel friend. For real! Then a black and white stray cat came along and had a litter of multicolored kittens in the woodpile. The cats all liked to eat, too, and they purred when I pet them. Sweet!
Unfortunately, my squirrel friend left the neighborhood when the cats moved in. 😦
LikeLiked by 1 person
Aww.
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a nice telling of a wonderful story. It reminded me of getting parakeets for my children while in LA visiting a friend who raised them in a large home aviary. He gave me a pair, and the only small box he had available for transporting them back to Sacramento–a Kentucky Fried Chicken meal box.
Unfortunately, I didn’t drive on that trip; I flew. You can imagine what the people around me thought as I sat there with the KFC box on my lap, with all of the skittering and occasional chirps, coming from that fried poultry container.
LikeLiked by 4 people
Hah, that’s funny, Rob! You should have said, “Mmm, KFC uses REALLY fresh chicken!”
LikeLiked by 3 people
Or “Kentucky Fried Parakeet.–it’s new.”
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is way too funny Rob. Wish I’d been there.
LikeLike
You sure know how to keep your readers coming back. I just moaned like my children used to when I quit at a cliff-hanger spot. Great story, Mitch, I can’t wait for the rest.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Awwwwww. The only friends I had at age four was a barbie doll and a dog (lucky) he died in a car accident 😭😭😭I still miss lucky. We were super close
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s so sad, Ene. A dog really can be your best friend, can’t they?
LikeLike
Yes they sure can. Now I have a cat, her name is judah and she is my new best friend
LikeLiked by 1 person
I look forward to the sequel!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Poor Frieda–she had to stay on her toes with you! How many episodes have you written now about young Mitch? And you’re only up to age four? The Teemley Memoirs will need to be a boxed set! (But they’ll sell like hotcakes–such fun reading!)
LikeLiked by 2 people
Seven so far, but I’m sliding into age 5. Thanks, Nancy!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Mitch,
Love it, want to hear more of it. I love your ideas and comic timing. Great minds “clink, clank, clunk” alike.
In Christ,
Gary
LikeLiked by 1 person
I had few friends growing up. I am an only child. Now at 80 I miss having brothers and/or sisters. My kids are close to each other and are friends for life.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I can relate. I’m an only too, and my young adult daughters are very close.
LikeLike
I understand. I am also close to my children although they are not near except for one.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re lucky you survived the Great Parakeet Liberation! I’ll just bet Frieda was yelling.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yep. I’d actually been told never to leave the gate open, so I remember be torn about what was right. Major moral conundrum for a 4 1/2 year old.
LikeLiked by 1 person
For a 4 1/2 year old, I think curiosity always tips the balance in the moral conundrum equation. I wonder what will happen if I do this? I know I shouldn’t–but I just have to know!
LikeLiked by 1 person
;>)
LikeLike
I look forward to reading more! I know I was lucky as a child, because I had a friend right next door, and another one across the street. We’re still friends now, as a matter of fact, all these years later!
LikeLiked by 1 person
LOL. That’s very funny.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Haoyando.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Mitch, I have no bird nor kitten story to tell. I’m showing up here to tell you I enjoyed “Healing River” a lot. It was an excellent movie; a worthy tale to teach us how one woman played the part of Jesus with hand outstretch and a heart moved with compassion. Thanks.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oneta, I’m so happy to hear you enjoyed Healing River! May I encourage you to share it on Facebook or other social media, and to leave a brief review at Amazon? (The more reviews it gets, the more they recommend it). Also, you can rate it from 1 to 10 stars on IMDb (link below). Note: IMDb only recognizes the rating if you rate a few other movies, as well. Thanks and blessings, my friend! https://www.imdb.com/title/tt5848326/
LikeLike
Another comical story Mitch, you know how to bait us to come back for more. Love it! 😂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh and your pursuit to liberate the parakeets reminded me of my little sister about that age that wanted to take our neighbors goldfish for a ride in her red wagon, and in the process flooded their basement.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Not sure how the ride in the wagon and the flooded basement connect, but I’m sure I’m her mind they did.
LikeLiked by 1 person
She started out with taking the hose in their basement and filled the wagon with water then poured the goldfish 🐠 in. She just wanted to give them a ride and some sunshine, which had to have been in the summer, because we lived in rainy Seattle at the time. In her great excitement, she left the water hose running inside their house, (who knows what 4yr olds great ideas are in real time?). Wait a minute, I must have been her accomplice if I was an eye witness to this unfortunate but in hindsight, a funny incident…but she was the one who got in trouble. Not me, uh uh…as Sargent Schultz would say in Hogan’s Heros. “I know nothing. I see nothing….!” Ha!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hah! Thought it might be something like that.
LikeLike
Pingback: Weird Eddie | Mitch Teemley