“Once I went a pickin’ peas, I thought I heard a peacock sneeze. He sneezed so hard with the whooping cough, that his tail flew up and his head flew off.”
That’s a way-back memory of an un-returning time of a poem once memorized in my early grade school days.
I remember I hated the thought of the seemingly cruel ending to the poor peacock, even though in reality it probably never ever happened. I was so annoyed at the unknown poet that I sat down and wrote one of my own about “A little baby bunny who wouldn’t listen to his mummy, Playing tag while hip-hopping across the road, But along came an 18 wheeler, newly purchased from a dealer, And it flattened baby bunny like a toad.”
But the possibility of me hearing a peacock sneeze is now quite probable. It’s a long, long story, but the grapevine up here in the western hinterlands of Markdale travels almost as fast as email and equally as fast as a homing pigeon.
It all came about while I was talking to a friend of a friend. They had heard of my love for birds and they phoned and asked if they could bring their friends over to see what was going on in my canary castle, which is annoyingly often referred to as the chicken coop.
Well, the friends of a friend’s friend liked what they saw and we talked birds, but before they left they asked if I would be interested in giving some peacocks a good home.
The words were barely out of their mouth when I blurted a profound yes. It was not until later that I learned there were eight of them. Knowing well that there is little room for birds of that size or nature in my canary castle, I asked for a little time to arrange suitable housing for them.
Lucky for me, my son came up with the possible idea of making temporary winter accommodation for them in one of the 10 by 12 foot portable goat sheds.
The goats will be housed in the barn during the winter, so we could move one up near my canary castle. And the fun began.
The shelter was moved by the big John Deere. Matching board and batten was purchased from a nearby Mennonite sawmill to close in the front. A couple of windows were offered by a neighbour, and a beautiful windowed door was exchanged for a case of beer. What more could you want?
Well, the weather did not co-operate. It took longer than I thought, but finally the saw and hammering ended, two inches of fine sand was spread to cover the ground, and that was topped with a four-inch layer of finely shredded straw. In addition, a ten by ten chain link run was added to the outside to give them room to frolic on warm, sunny winter days.
So, folks, by the time this article rolls from the press, the peacocks will be eating bread crusts from my hand in our yard. If I hear one sneeze, I’ll be sure to let you know.
Take care, cause we care.
barrie@barriehopkins.ca
519-986-4105