Continuing the chain...
Sep. 13th, 2007 02:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kickahaAfter commenting in ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dollrave's post about a drunken, suicidal parakeet, which was posted because she posted a comment in a... oh, just go follow the chain.
When I was 3, my dad worked at a car lot in our hometown, as a salesman. (Damned good at it too. While stuck in a little two-horse town, he managed to get named Salesman of the Year by Pontiac, Buick, and a couple other arms of GM, in multiple years. He was the only one at the lot with repeat business, because he treated people *gasp* honestly.)
One day, he heard a shriek from the restroom, and a secretary came out babbling about a 'mouse in the toilet'. Dad looked in, and it was a *chipmunk*. Now, while this was not a large town (about 15k pop.), this was in the center of town, far from any fields, orchards, woods, or meadows. But here's a drowned chipmunk. In the toilet. In the center of the building.
One of the salesmen said "Oh for god's sake" and started to flush it. Dad stopped him, and fished it out, because he thought he saw it twitch. He grabbed a towel, warmed it up in his hands, massaged its chest gently, and... it came to. Sort of. It was groggy and out of it, so he grabbed a box and put it in there before it fully recovered, and he brought it home with him to show me and my Mom.
Well, it ended up living in a big bird cage Dad found in the garage, and it was named... Chipper. (Sorrydollraves, I am *not* making this up, I swear to god.)
A few days later, after Chipper got used to the cage a bit more, it seemed to disappear. Dad started lifting wood chips out of the way, and found Chipper in a nest. With babies. Chipper was a knocked up preggers she.
Welllllll, this got too damned cute. We had a chipmunk and (IIRC) five babies in our house. I got to see them come out, but we kind of forgot that while Chipper couldn't get through the bars... the babies could. One evening, Chipper went berzerk, screeching, running around the cage, you name it. No babies.
Mom and Dad started looking around the house, carefully, and found four. They kept looking for #5, and at the far end of the house, dad was backing up down the hall towards their bedroom, peering at the carpet, when *crunch*... he was wearing cowboy boots. One dead baby chipmunk. :/
But, Chipper and the four remaining babies ended up doing fine, and when the kidlings were bigger, all five were put in the bushes outside the front door. We had chipmunks in our yard until we moved three years later. No one else in the neighborhood had chipmunks, but we did.
dollrave's post about a drunken, suicidal parakeet, which was posted because she posted a comment in a... oh, just go follow the chain.When I was 3, my dad worked at a car lot in our hometown, as a salesman. (Damned good at it too. While stuck in a little two-horse town, he managed to get named Salesman of the Year by Pontiac, Buick, and a couple other arms of GM, in multiple years. He was the only one at the lot with repeat business, because he treated people *gasp* honestly.)
One day, he heard a shriek from the restroom, and a secretary came out babbling about a 'mouse in the toilet'. Dad looked in, and it was a *chipmunk*. Now, while this was not a large town (about 15k pop.), this was in the center of town, far from any fields, orchards, woods, or meadows. But here's a drowned chipmunk. In the toilet. In the center of the building.
One of the salesmen said "Oh for god's sake" and started to flush it. Dad stopped him, and fished it out, because he thought he saw it twitch. He grabbed a towel, warmed it up in his hands, massaged its chest gently, and... it came to. Sort of. It was groggy and out of it, so he grabbed a box and put it in there before it fully recovered, and he brought it home with him to show me and my Mom.
Well, it ended up living in a big bird cage Dad found in the garage, and it was named... Chipper. (Sorry
dollraves, I am *not* making this up, I swear to god.)A few days later, after Chipper got used to the cage a bit more, it seemed to disappear. Dad started lifting wood chips out of the way, and found Chipper in a nest. With babies. Chipper was a knocked up preggers she.
Welllllll, this got too damned cute. We had a chipmunk and (IIRC) five babies in our house. I got to see them come out, but we kind of forgot that while Chipper couldn't get through the bars... the babies could. One evening, Chipper went berzerk, screeching, running around the cage, you name it. No babies.
Mom and Dad started looking around the house, carefully, and found four. They kept looking for #5, and at the far end of the house, dad was backing up down the hall towards their bedroom, peering at the carpet, when *crunch*... he was wearing cowboy boots. One dead baby chipmunk. :/
But, Chipper and the four remaining babies ended up doing fine, and when the kidlings were bigger, all five were put in the bushes outside the front door. We had chipmunks in our yard until we moved three years later. No one else in the neighborhood had chipmunks, but we did.