Six more weeks

Today is GroundHog Day. And this morning at Wiarton, Ontario, the groundhog Wiarton Willy saw his shadow, run back to his cage and declared " there'd be another six weeks of winter." There you go.

Tonight just before we had dinner, I went to the balcony and performed the evening ritual for my pet birds. I covered them snugly with three towels on top and two blankets on all sides of their cages, to protect them from the minus two celsius temperature. When I perform this evening winter ritual, I purposely make noise by wrinkling the clear plastic sheet which is the first layer of protection for the birds. I do this to announce to them that it is "bedtime."

The two budgies, Tommy and JLo (which I renamed Ugly Betty) would respond to this crinkly noise by doing the following: Tommy proclaims his protest to the "lights out" by giving out a crispy twitter, which means, " I don't wanna go to bed yet." JLo, err, Ugly Betty, responds by immediately crossing perches or going down, then up, to ultimately settle on her favorite yellow feeder, aka bed.

Tonight it was already 7 pm when I covered them. Usually, I do this before six p.m.

Because I was late, when I wrinkled the plastic sheet, JLo did not steer nor move. So I peeked inside the dark cage, and saw Ugly Betty already enjoying her snooze, tucked under the newspaper, comfortably embedded on the pieces of paper which she patiently shredded for weeks. I just saw her tail protruding.

Tommy on the other hand , was his usual cranky self, immediately "cackling" and only stopped when he was fully covered. Once covered, though, Tommy would remain silent and behaved all through the night, no matter how loud the television is, or how bright the light is at the adjoining dining area. These two would only wake up, no fail, at around 8 am the following morning. This they do, whether it's a weekday or a weekend. I guess, they're like the rooster, who has its own internal alarm clock.

I lost most of my canaries when I returned from Europe last summer. This being so, I do not intend to replace them. For now, I am happy with the two budgies.

And because they've lived with the canaries for a long time, Tommy and Ugly Betty have acquired the female canaries' distinct "sound." Only canary lovers would know this sound. That's why I tell friends that my budgies are bilingual.

Good night Tommy! Goodnight Ugly Betty! Here's to s

ix more weeks of the evening winter ritual.