Its all in the name.

We had a rather large delivery today of an assortment of products. Nothing unusual in that, but it set me thinking. - What strange names some of our pet products have. Kongs, Chubleez, Snuggle Factor, Critter Chopper, Perfection, Rogz for dogs, Paddywack, Muffins, (for small animals), Calypso Cricket Dust, Rug patrol, Gaylets, Flying Calf Frizbee, Chicken on a Rope, Orkas, Twisters, Wee wee Pads. - The list is endless. Some are simply self explanatory, but others are really strange. Do the manufacturers have teams of their employees making up these strange names and do they award prizes for the oddest?
But I guess the strangest names are those of the animal housing. Bird cages and hamster cages. We had a number of hamster cages delivered and they had names such as Chealsea, Paddington, Bayswater, Westminster, Kew, Pall Mall and Picadilly. I couldn't help but think that they did not have any cages named after the more run down areas of London. No Old Kent Road, or Peckhams or Elephant and Castle. I wonder why? At least they are easy to understand. Why would anyone call a cage a 'duffy'? Sounds a bit 'duff' to me or a 'Yole'? All very weird, but they are good sellers nevertheless.
Guess I should get back to my ordering instead of musing on strange names for pet products - 'Dried earthworms to go' have been requested by a customer. Hope she is going to feed them to her garden birds and not use them for some strange brew. Maybe she would prefere some 'Insect Patee' instead.

'Little Accidents'

When you own a Pet Shop you become rather used to cleaning up all sorts of mess, but yesterday I must admit was a little different. We are certainly used to cleaning out messy pens, scraping, cleaning and disinfecting is certainly nothing new to us. Nearly everyday someone or or other is up to their elbows in buckets of hot water and cleaning fluids. It is always satisfying to see freshly cleaned out cages or pens with happy occupants waiting to untidy the whole lot for you to clean out again. That's just the way life in a Pet Shop is. Once you have cleaned something up then you go on to the next and clean something else up. Animal pens, shelves, cages, floors etc. etc. - all have to be cleaned, and if you work for me you will soon discover that 'this or that' needs cleaning. In my line of work in my opinion no matter how hard you clean and tidy it can't be enough. Keeping animals is a dirty business and I like to make sure that my business isn't dirty.
Now if you bring a puppy into the shop and it has an 'accident' then we don't mind. We are used to bringing out the mop and bucket and giving the floor a good clean. But I must admit that I am not used to bringing out the mop and bucket for human offspring. Yesterday such an incident happened. A Mother was in the shop with her two little girls. The children had been brought in to look at the pets. Mother and daughters were taking their time when all of a sudden the eldest of the children said in a loud voice that she was feeling sick. Quick as a flash I rushed to the kitchen to grab a bucket. I placed it in front of the poor child just in time for her to return her breakfast. And then I was handed back the offending bucket which I speedily took back into the kitchen to be washed and disinfected. Mother and children then spent a bit more time looking around the shop with me following close behind with another bucket. Then off they went on their way. Saying they had some more shopping to do -Fortunately incidents like that are rare, but nothing surprises me. - Just another day in the mad world of running a Pet Shop.

Jemima

Yes, can't nature be cruel? As I said in my previous Post I have a great view from my window as I work in my office at home. Our rather overgrown garden (I really must try and spend more time tidying it up) tumbles down to a river where there is always something interesting going on. It makes it so much easier to do mundane things like the VAT or paying invoices or checking tax returns when I can glance up and see the wild birds or even just watch people walking or playing with their dogs on the bank opposite.
The day before yesterday I was in the garden - unfortunately not tidying up, but just feeding the fish in the pond. I heard a loud sort of quacking noise and there at the edge of the river was 'Jemima'. Now 'Jemima' is an ordinary white duck who has lived on the river for a number of years, and as we are regular duck feeders we always recognise 'Jemima' because she is white. You can't miss her because as a white duck amongst all the other ordinary Mallard ducks she sticks out as they say 'like a sore thumb'. But there she was - the day before yesterday- at the edge of the river with a brood of four tiny ducklings. All little brown round balls skidding across the water at high speed. Jemima fussed about them and kept them close to her as she ventured nearer to us for a quick piece of bread. Then after a few minutes she was off down the river again with her new family quacking as she went and waiting from time to time for the last ducking to catch up with its brothers and sisters. Now we often see ducklings at this time of year, but to see 'Jemima' with her brood really made me feel good. I had always thought that 'Jemima' had been a drake, and was often seen having rather nasty fights with other ducks that she hung around with. (The name Jemima comes from Beatrix Potters-Jemima puddle duck and it had always been a family joke that we thought she was a he, Jemima that is not Beatrix! - all very confusing.) Well regarding the duck I guess I was wrong on both counts. She was after all a female duck and I think that the fights may have been other male ducks trying to mate with her. How wrong had I been?
But this morning disaster had struck. I saw 'Jemima' paddling slowly up the river all on her own. During the night I had woken to hear lots of ducks quacking and wings flapping. There was nothing I could do, and besides we often hear ducks or birds or dogs so there was nothing new. I didn't even think of 'Jemima'. But the noise must have been Jemima trying to protect her ducklings from some predator. Maybe a mink or a cat or a heron? Who knows? Those tiny creatures are all gone. How sad that they only got to see life for a couple of short days. I guess they made some tasty snack for some predators family. Poor, poor Jemima.
Maybe when I saw her paddeling back up river Jemima was heading back to her old nest and will try and raise some more ducklings in the weeks to come. Obviously she had picked a good spot to sit on her eggs. At least they had hatched safely. I just hope that if she is successful she will be more careful next time. I think that she stands out more than other ducks and is an easy target for passing duckling eaters. I guess it would be quite easy to spot a white duck at night. But I shall be watching and waiting. Nothing I can do, but to see her with a healthy family would make my Summer.

Roadworks,bra's and bats

We have been all enjoying the past warm weather. The tortoises have been having a whale of a time. They have been eating really well and looking very happy indeed. That is if a tortoise can 'look' happy. I have yet to see them smile, but they seem to be enjoying life anyway. We have found nice homes for them, and most have been sold in pairs. Their new owners are lovely people in fact one owner is a friend of mine. She has always wanted to keep tortoises and now that she is retired has decided to fulfil her dream and keep not one but two. I think they will be better looked after than the other members of her family. When I last talked to her she was worrying about where to place their vivarium in her house. Her sons bedroom or the playroom?
Back on the business front things have been a little strange. Yet again our wonderful Council has allowed some utility company or other to dig up the main road outside the shop. Why do they always choose a Bank holiday? This has caused chaos. We have traffic lights, very loud pneumatic drills and countless incidents of road rage. Of course our customers come into the shop and complain to us that they cannot cross the road, or they had to queue in their cars for ages to get into the town. As if we can do anything about it!
Then on Bank holiday Sunday our burglar alarm went off and would not be silenced. No matter how many times I put in the correct code it still continued with its screaming. I had to call the engineer out which of course will cost me a fortune. Not only that when it was eventually silenced our Parrot started imitating it. He can also imitate the passing ambulance sirens, so all in all Sunday was not a good day. Good job I did not have a hangover as well.
We are all awaiting the birth of some 'Skinny Pigs'. These are hairless guinea pigs. A member of our staff has a few as pets, and her pregnant sow is due any day now. It is all excitement, and as soon as they are born she will bring in pictures of the new arrivals. Skinny Pigs are a new breed of Guinea Pig which as I have said are hairless. Not to every ones taste, but interesting creatures. They have to be kept warm and are being exchanged for quite large amounts of money from all over the world. A bit out of our ordinary Pet Shop league, but interesting all the same.
Our strange request over the weekend was from a customer that asked if we sold bra's for dogs? Now I have heard of coats for dogs, boots for dogs even hats for dogs, but BRA'S? In the end after a lot of questions of a delicate nature I realised that she meant a harness. - Thank goodness for that.
Back at my house - where I live and type this blog - I have been watching a Kingfisher. It flies past my window as I type. I think it must have a nest nearby. I am so lucky to be able to see this bird almost every day. I know he is coming past as he makes a loud screeching sound when he flies. I wouldn't have thought that that was such a good idea as it must let all the other birds and predators know he is about. And you really can't miss him. His vivid colours just flash and sparkle as he zips past. I wounder if he will fly past with his new family soon. I do hope so.
Its just great to watch wildlife, and my cats think so too. Unfortunately one of my cats walked into the house with a bat the other day. Goodness knows how he managed to catch it. Life can be so cruel can't it?

Wow - how time flies.

I just don't know where the time goes to these days. I guess I have just been busy. - What with Easter and all. Although everyone else seems to have a few days off we still keep plodding on. The shop is open all over the Easter period and the animals have to be cared for so the staff are are all working. Never mind though. We were kept busy.
One of our funniest incidents was a man standing beside our bank of fish tanks which were nearly overflowing with hundreds of fish when he turned to one of our assistants and said -'do you sell fish?' Trying to hold back a look of amazement the assistant spread her arms out wide and said 'are these what you are looking for?' His girlfriend then proceeded to tell him in front of the whole shop what a twit he was and how dumb he had looked. Exit a very sheepish man being heavily chastised by his rather loud mouthed girlfriend!
Spring is always a nice time in the shop as young animals and birds are arriving. We have just got some lovely Lionhead rabbits. About 8 weeks old, cute and fluffy. I keep trying to remember to take a photo of them so that I can put a picture of them on my desk at home. Some folks have photos of their families and friends - I have photos of my animals - I guess they are family and friends too. They have come from an accidental breeder. Two of her rabbits had had a bit of a jolly time and a few weeks later she had 5 more rabbits. Her children had really enjoyed all the maternity bit and now because she cannot keep them all she has come to me. These rabbits are idea. They will make great pets. They have been handled by the breeders children and are very tame. We now just have to find some loving families that will care for each one of them and enjoy them as much as their previous owners. I don't think that will be a big problem. We have quite a few customers waiting for such lovely creatures.
Yesterday I arrived back at the shop with 5 tortoises. (I like to collect and look at animals myself before buying them). We have three Hermanns and two Leopard. They are all lovely. Quite small but feeding well. They look at you with their beady eyes and if not too frightened will also look around for an odd piece of cabbage whilst you are holding them aloft. I am sure they are quite intelligent as they seem to get to know humans that are around them quite quickly. Today we will give them a bath and then polish their shells with a little olive oil. Then they will really look smart. They come with all the correct documentation and full feeding, heating and humidity instructions. They are not cheep, but again will make someone who enjoys tortoises really good pets. We will however have a long road ahead before we can sell them as the prospective owners need to be told all about their requirements and how they will need a heated vivarium and UV light etc.
So I guess I had better get to work instead of sitting infront of my computer writing this blog.
Totoises need polishing and fish need counting.

Mac 1, Tale 2

Mac 1 was resident in the shop for many years. He quickly became part of shop life and a real character to boot. He had a large stand to sit on inside the shop which when the weather was good we put outside. He just loved sitting up and talking to passers by. The more attention he got the more he liked it. He could spot a camera from yards away and would shout until the photographer obliged by taking a snap. He just loved having his photo taken. He would pose like a model. Walking this way and that along his perch and then spreading his wings right out so the photographer could get him at just the right angle. He loved to frighten people by creeping up on them from behind, and after a few near misses we decided to elevate his perch to higher up above the shop door. In that way he was safe the poking fingers of inquisitive customers and passers by were safe from a snapping beak. A round hut was designed complete with thatched roof and a perch that protruded out from its front door and placed just above the main shop entrance. This was Macs daytime home. If the weather was showery he would sit inside and occasionally poke his head out to shout at his regular visitors. If the weather was sunny he would sit outside his front door and preen himself in the warm sunshine, then give a cheery 'hello' to anyone passing by underneath. This would often shock people and their pets especially dogs who would not know what to think. He had regular admirers too, both human and canine whom he knew. And as they often walked past him at the same time of day he would wait for them and give each one of them a different shout. 'Morning', 'Hi'. 'Bye bye' - 'sit boy'! Or what ever he associated the person or dog with.
But best of all Mac liked hats. Hats were great fun to Mac. The bigger the hat the better. He just loved trying to reach them, by hanging upside down from his perch. But because of the height of his house he usually did not succeed. One day was different. The shop is situated on a thoroughfare that leads to our Registry office, and often during the Spring and Summer there are weddings. Of course many people have to walk past the shop in all their finery. Including ladies in very posh hats! Mac, no matter how hard he tried he could not get close enough to 'have a go'. But one day a tall Lady walked under him wearing a hat with a very large feather that was stuck out of the top. Well, I guess you can imagine what happened next. The feather was grabbed, and because it was glued onto the hat the hat came off too and was dragged straight into Macs hut where he proceeded to shred the material and the lining and play with the feather. Cue one very irate lady into the shop to the sound of Mac chuckling to himself while enjoying his catch. After some considerable time I calmed the lady down and agreed to replace the hat. Nearly in tears she walked out of the shop only to see Mac sitting at the end of his perch with bits of material from the hat wrapped around him and a large feather in his claw. To make matters worse he was laughing at the top of his voice and posing because just at that moment someone had decided to take a picture.

Mac 1, Tale 1

I wonder how many of our older customers remember 'Mac' the Macaw?
We did in fact have 2 macaws - one after the other. Mac 1 arrived when I was about 13 years old. He was taken in part exchange by my Father who was owed some money for some pet food. I still have the memory today of the phone call I received from my Dad saying that I was to 'come down to the shop and see what was waiting for me'. I rushed to my bike and peddled as fast as I could down to the shop.
I arrived out of breath from my journey and when I walked into the shop my heart almost stopped as well. There sitting above me on a large parrot stand was 'Mac'. He took one look at me with his black beady eye, raised his large foot in a sort of salute, bent over and in a very loud voice said 'Helllooo!'. Well from that moment on I was in love. Forget boys. That parrot was far better. He was well mannered, well dressed, always attentive, a bit cheeky and even my parents liked him! He was just about the most beautiful bird I had ever seen. A huge beast over a meter long. With a massive tail that trailed behind him like some regal train. Feathers that were yellow, black and blue. So blue that when the sun shone through them the colour was indescribable. Then there was his face. He had a large black beak that could crack a Brazil nut and pure white wrinkled skin around his eyes. This pale white skin had minute black feathers in rows where in a human his cheekbones would have been. The pupils of his eyes were jet black and around the outside of both of his eyes he had a complete ring of even smaller black feathers like some exotic eyeliner.
I knew that he was rather taken with me too, as whenever I told him that he was beautiful he would blush. All the white skin around his cheeks would flush bright pink and he would put his head on my shoulder and make strange clicking noises.
After not too much persuasion my Father agreed to keep Mac as a shop mascot.
Although Mac lived at the shop he often came home with my Father for lunch or in the days before we opened on Sundays he spent Sundays with us at home. He loved travelling in the car and would often give other drivers a shock when he sat on the back of the passenger seat shouting 'hello' or 'wahoo!!' One of his favorite pastimes was mucking about in the garden on warm summer days. He loved to waddle about when my parents were gardening, helping or rather just plain getting in the way. He would carry garden gloves and drop them in some inaccessible place, or move a trowel that had just been put down,to somewhere that you wouldn't think to look, or even decide that the handle of a garden fork would make a tasty snack and shred it into thin wooden slivers. As he was very tame he would from time to time decide to have a bit of a fly around. Usually that was alright, because just like our dog he would come back when called. But on one occasion he decided to take a bit of a longer flight than we expected. When I looked up there he was some distance up in the air. I still wasn't too worried. I called out his name, he gave me a quick look and flew on.
At that time we lived beside some open fields and I thought as long as I could see him then all would be well, - he flew on. Like some documentary on the Amazon rain forest he looked magnificent in full flight. All blue, gold and tail feathers. Then a crowd of crows spotted him. They circled round and round him like some second world war fighter planes, screeching and swearing. Mac ducked and dived and tried to shout back, but the crows with the advantage of numbers had him reeling. With his wings rammed close to his body Mac decided to admit defeat and head for terra firma. Poor bird he crash landed with quite a bump in the long grass. The crows on the other hand headed off together shouting and 'caw cawing' as though they had just won the Battle of Britain. I set off at a run trying to locate the 'downed' Mac. I shouted out his name and before long I heard mutterings coming from the ground a short distance away. He was chuntering to himself as he tried to raise himself up high enough to see exactly where he was. Macaws may look magnificent in full flight, but when they are very cross in a hay field they can look somewhat sorry for themselves. As soon as he saw me he grabbed hold of my trousers and then climbed up onto my shoulder. He shook the bits of chaff out of his feathers, gently held onto my earlobe with his beak so that he wouldn't fall off. And he and I walked quickly back to the house. In the garden my parents and I gave him a swift inspection to check that he was unhurt.- Luckily he got away with only a bruised ego -. After which he proceeded to find the highest branch that he could sit on. A stout one that was a good distance from any lurking crow and safe enough to be within a short hop to the security of the house. Then he started to shout and screech as loud as he possibly could at whatever bird of any shape or size that come close. Not content with that he raced up and down the branch, back and forth, slapping his feet on the dry bark, flapping his wings and spreading his huge tail while making cracking noises with his beak. He continued with his display until quite exhausted. Then evening fell and I had to climb the tree, pick him off his perch and take him back to his cage at the shop.
From that day until about a about a month afterwards all the garden birds that fed from my Mothers bird table disappeared. Slowly however one by one they made their way back to feast on the seeds that she left out for them. But I am sure that for weeks afterwards when they landed on the bird table you could see their little heads glancing over their shoulders as if they heard a noise. Just in case there was a large blue and gold bird shouting at them. I have often wondered if bird dream? Or do they have nightmares? The birds in our garden would have no doubt have had dreams of predators such as cats, foxes, magpies or sparrow hawks. But the most frightening of all must surely have been some mythical winged creature with a huge scary beak and the loudest of squawks, the strangest of dances, the brightest of colours, and a really really long tail.