Pandora Archives - 'ear 'ear! by Gaynor Young

Heaven’s Creatures!

Gaynor Young — Fri, 16 May 2014 04:29:54 +0000

For eight years, Pandora was the love of my life.
Pandora, the yellow, rosy cheeked cockatiel, lived with me in Durban. ‘Oh yes, Gaynor’s bird,’ you are thinking. Yes, she was a bird but she was far more than that. She was my companion. She shared my life, living the ups and downs with me. I loved her and she was equally just as demented about me!
One morning, I woke up and made myself some coffee. Pandora slept in a cage on a chair next to my bed. “Morning, Angel,” I said as I whisked her cover off. She was already awake and had got off her perch and was sitting on the ground as near to me as possible. I climbed back into bed and drew out something which always sent Pandora into a spin of delighted anticipation – Biltong! She was as mad about the stuff as I am. I had never heard of cockatiels eating meat. I had thought that they were herbivores with a diet made up of seeds and nuts. Pandora proved to be of the Vulture variety of cockatiel. Loved meat, bacon, chicken, sausage and was totally hooked on biltong!
“Look what I’ve got,” I said bringing out the biltong packet. She knew that sound and would normally start racing up and down her cage in high hopes and expectancy. Only that morning was different. She remained seated on the floor in her corner, her eyes watching me steadily.
“Hey!” I said “Look, biltong!” I waved a stick under her beak. No reaction. Well, blow me down! I opened up Pandora’s cage and placed the ramp down leading onto the bed. Pandora adored my bed. Normally scouted around, pecking at the quilt before finally returning to me. Then she climbed up my PJs and nestled into my neck. That morning Pandora didn’t budge. Not normal! Not normal at all. I reached into the cage and drew her out. “Angel-Face?” I said softly, putting her against my chest. That was when I noticed that her legs didn’t seem to be working. Fuh-lip! Instantly I was out of bed, Pandora clasped in my hands. “What is it, Pandora?” How I wished that she could speak. “Oh, glory”, I muttered as I placed Pandora in a comfortable position among my bedcovers and dressed quickly. “It’s alright, Angel. I will get you to the vet and she’ll sort you out.”
Ten minutes later, I left with Pandora cradled in my hands. It is about a kilometre away and I spoke to Pandora the whole time. People gave me the oddest looks. I must have appeared a sight. A woman talking to this bird in her hands while tears streamed down her cheeks. We arrived at about 8.20 and naturally there was no one there yet. “We will just sit here and wait.” Pandora closed her eyes. “Don’t die, Angel, don’t die!” I whispered fiercely.
On the dot at 8.30 the vet opened the door. I held out my hands and said: “My bird…she…she’s not well.”
The vet gently took Pandora from me. “I’m afraid she’s dead,” she said.
“No… no… she has just closed her eyes. Hasn’t she?” I pleaded.
She placed a stethoscope to Pandora’s chest and shook her head. “No, she’s gone.”
Gently she wrapped Pandora in a paper towel and handed her to me. I then walked the kilometre home, Pandora in my hands, sobbing unbearably.
Gone was the little bird who had laid an egg on my stomach. Gone was the bird who heard me mounting the stairs and squawked out her welcome. Gone was the bird who sat on the wash basket while I had my bath and lapped up all the water that came her way. Gone was the bird who loved biltong. Pandora was not a pet. She was a bird that believed herself to be human. Pandora was my close friend.
I buried her in the garden. I felt as if my heart would break.
Later I discovered that biltong is a death trap to birds. It clogs up their throats. Much as she adored it, biltong was the worst possible thing for her to eat. In actual fact, I had murdered Pandora!
Today I share my flat with Perdita, a Wire-Haired Dachshund, and Spencer, a cockatiel who continually launches into Bridge Over The River Kwai to get attention! These are my “children”. But Perdita is already nine years old. And Spencer is eight. Perish the thought, but these “children” of mine will die in the not to distant future. I attended a bible study in Durban where one of the women said to me quite bluntly: “Oh no, your pets don’t end up in Heaven with you!” A peal of laughter. “No, Gaynor, I’m afraid it’s just we humans in Heaven.”
Of all the egotistical things to say! I believe that she is wrong. There are definitely horses and angels together in the Bible. (Revelation 6) If there are horses in Heaven, there are other creatures! I know when I look into my “children’s” eyes that they know God intimately. I guess what I am saying, is that animals do have souls. So yes, I believe that I will re-connect with all the animals that I have loved and lost. They have simply gone on ahead of me. We will see each other again.
Later.

I smiled at this poem written by Rudyard Kipling after the death of his dog.

A Dog for Jesus
(Where dogs go when they die)

I wish someone had given Jesus a dog.
As loyal and loving as mine.
To sleep by His manger and gaze in His eyes
And adore Him for being divine.

As our Lord grew to manhood His faithful dog,
Would have followed Him all through the day.
While He preached to the crowds and made the sick well
And knelt in the garden to pray.
It is sad to remember that Christ went away.
To face death alone and apart.
With no tender dog following close behind,
To comfort its Master’s Heart.
And when Jesus rose on that Easter morn,
How happy He would have been,
As His dog kissed His hand and barked it’s delight,
For The One who died for all men.

Well, the Lord has a dog now, I just sent Him mine,
The old pal so dear to me.
And I smile through my tears on this first day alone,
Knowing they’re in eternity.
Day after day, the whole day through,
Wherever my road inclined,
Four feet said, “Wait, I’m coming with you!”
And trotted along behind.

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The Great Escape!

Gaynor Young — Sat, 21 Sep 2013 05:06:38 +0000

One Christmas when I still lived in Durban, I flew to George to spend the holiday with my family. Because Mum and Dad’s house was so full of guests, for my first four days before Christmas I slept in the back room with my nieces, Kirsten and Sarah. Oh yes, forgot to mention a vital point…..Pandora, my cockatiel, always came with me. So while I flew normal economy class, my poor Angel was put on with the baggage. As the baggage disappeared from view she shrieked the entire way and two hours later as I stood in George airport waiting to collect my luggage, I gave a joyful sigh as I heard the familiar shrieks emerge with the baggage once more. Pandora had arrived intact and was letting the world know. So I must amend that sentence. I shared a room with Kirsten, Sarah and Pandora. What a Goon-show!

On Christmas Eve, Mum very kindly said: “Should I take Pandora through to your room for you?”

“Thanks, Mums,” I was in the middle of a discussion with Dad. “And then could you cover her for the night.” It was Pandora’s normal time for bed – 10.30pm. So Mum and Pandora duly left and I continued talking.

Now in order for this story to have any impact I must first describe our house’s layout from the lounge to my room. It is a large lounge which you leave by turning left into the dining room. Then left once again and you find yourself in our kitchen. Which is large! Mum is “in haar noppies” because at long last she owns a BIG kitchen. Then you go down a passage which in turn passes the shower and loo until finally you reach the bedroom of Kirsten, Sarah, Pandora and Gaynor.

Fine the plot is laid out and now the story can begin! Da Da Da Duuuuuuummmmmmmm……….Just some slightly suspenseful music to get you in the mood. (I can see your smile beginning, admit it!)

About half an hour later I got up from the chair I was sitting in and went to kiss Dad goodnight. I took a step then turned back to him to make a final remark. That was when I heard it.

“Bbbrroooppphhh!”

There at my ankles was Pandora! I looked at her in stupefaction. How had she managed to get out of her cage? Even more important to my way of thinking: How had she managed to find me? Well, okay, I did speak fairly loudly at that time, this is pre-cochlear implants, so she must have simply followed the sound of my voice. But she was only able to walk. Just before the holidays I had cut her one wing. I often had her out her cage and I wanted to make sure that she was completely landlocked, if you know what I mean. Have you ever seen a cockatiel walk? It’s actually amazingly cute. They waddle from side to side. But it takes a total age for them to move any distance! Now here was Pandora, who had promptly travelled half the house to find me. And…..wait for it…we had two large cats who often regarded Pandora sitting in her cage, literally pulling a tongue at them, with great feline avidity.

Mum was nearly in tears when I tackled her about it.

“But I shut the cage. I would never leave it open. And then I covered her….”

I actually believed Mum. So I have no idea how Pandora escaped and set off on her mission. And no, Kirsten and Sarah were dead to the world. I said to my parents: “I just thank God that one of the cats didn’t devour her. If that had happened I would probably have spent Christmas in a mental home!”

My Mum didn’t find that remark very funny (after my accident she was told by one doctor to ‘put me in an Institution and forget she ever had a daughter!’), but at that moment humour was the furtherest thing from my thoughts!

But can you believe it? My Angel-Face escaped and found me!

I loved that little golden bundle of joy!

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Pandora’s Surprise!

Gaynor Young — Mon, 05 Aug 2013 20:16:40 +0000

I have to tell you about Pandora, my yellow cockatiel. I got her when she was 6 weeks old and I adored her. At this time, I lived in Durban in a block of flats that did not allow dogs but they said ‘yes’ to birds and that is how Pandora came to live with me. She believed with all her heart that she was a human being. No, seriously, she did. She thought that whatever I put in my mouth she could eat too. I had to explain to her that no, she would not enjoy yoghurt. But she saw it going into my mouth and I was obviously enjoying it…why wouldn’t she? It was only after tasting it off my tongue that…okay, I could have a point. When I’m eating chewing gum she was a bloody pain. She was mad about biltong and also was quite keen on red wine!

One night she was sitting on top of her cage and made it very obvious that she wanted to come to me. I collected her, put her on my shoulder, went and sat down and continued reading my book. But Pandora wasn’t happy with sitting on my shoulder and ventured downwards until she was sitting on my stomach. Then she burrowed herself underneath my pyjama top and seemed quite happy to stay there. An hour later I got ready to move to bed. I called Pandora out and put her on my shoulder and stood up.

An egg rolled out of my pyjamas! Fortunately I managed to catch it. Pandora had laid an egg on my stomach!

My darling bird. She was treating me as a daughter would her mother. She wanted to give birth with Mum there to hold her hand. Sigh!

My Pandora……….

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