IntrinsicTina

20 20 1 .G... I know what it's like to love a frog. I believe my first pet was a common frog, a moist, green, handful in the grasp of an intrepid four-year-old. Caught fresh from the ground by a grubby boy. I loved grubby boys; grubby boys knew how to have fun, they were brave, reaching out, unabashedly, into the world taking what they wanted, enjoying life fully. I was not a prissy girl; in fact, I was more often found down in the dirt, driving cars, contouring roads in the bare earth, unconsciously, wiping dirty hands on my shorts. Regularly unaware of filthy knees, dirt-streaked brow and cheek, my mother disgusted with my appearance, admonished me to clean myself up. My grandmother understood my penchant for boy-centric tendencies, indulging me with cars, trucks, and approved places to drive them; the knee-high, concrete block wall, magically transformed into a highway, through the power of imagination. Or the special place in the backyard, carved out from the flower garden. ...

I had a cockatiel, an exceptionally handsome bird, a female, lemony-yellow face and erectile crown, gray and white body, with the classic dull orange "cheddar cheeks".  She came to me as an adult, a gift from a couple dear to my heart. They bought Peri a beautiful cage, like a black palace, palacial in shape not in size. She stood upon her perch, a multiple-colored, twisted cord, soft affair that gracefully spanned the width of cage, to be an integral part of my life. Peri had one fault, she would only bond with one person. Initially, she was bonded with my friend, Rita, and I worried she wouldn't accept me. I need not have worried. Peri was my bird. She outlasted and hissed at boyfriends, friends, extended family, my daughter, my husband, and a few cats. But, me, she only had eyes for me. A fact that irritated my husband but tickled me. "I feed you, you little ingrate!", he'd boom. It had to rankle when she developed an unlikely friendship with my cat, ...