Short Story - Pet Shop By Geoffrey Charlton

The following is a short story set in a pet shop, and like Weasel, it lets the reader in on what animals of all shapes and sizes think and do when the humans are not looking.

 
Read on and see what happens when the pet shop closes its doors for the day. 

          The Pet Shop
          By Geoff Charlton 

Have you ever wondered what happens when the Pet Shop closes its doors for the day? Wonder no more...

My name is Mac. You may have guessed from my name that I am a macaw. I am told that I originally came to England from the South American Rain Forest. I must have been very young as I don’t remember that at all. To the best of my knowledge I have always lived in this pet shop. Most of the animals are only in here for a short while before someone buys them. I am not for sale, I live here, and I see and hear everything.

 
The vast majority of the people who come into the shop say ‘Hey, look at the parrot.’ I find that most annoying. The times I’ve wanted to lunge out from my perch and peck the uneducated owners of those words...well, let’s just say I manage to keep my cool, but only just. Oh yes, I am from the parrot
family, in fact I am one of the largest birds of the parrot family, as well as one of the brightest coloured too. My back and my wings are deep red in colour with a sprinkling of ocean blue. When I stretch my wings I am almost three feet wide! My tail feathers are very long too; you could say that I am all beak and feathers. I have large beady eyes and a very, very sharp powerful beak... but please, please call me a macaw; it makes me feel so much better.

 
I’m starting to stray from the point. What happens when we close, you see, once I start I go on and on. Right then, if you’re still with me, and you are still wondering what happens when we close...well, wonder no more.

 
Mr Johnston and the girls close the shop at the end of the day. Mr Johnston owns the shop, The Bazaar is the name of the shop by the way, and Sue, Alison and Julie help out. I like Sue and Julie as they always give me extra pieces of fruit and nuts, whereas Alison gives me the odd sunflower seed and nothing else. Anyway the door closes and...IT’S TIME TO PLAY!!

Firstly I fly across to the rabbit hutches and let them out, quickly followed by the guinea pigs. They usually play ‘hide and seek’ amongst all the sacks and boxes littered about the shop floor. I like to ‘spook’ the hamsters. They wake up around now and start spinning their wheels. I find this really annoying. So I wait until they are starting to enjoy themselves then I pounce.

 
I land on top of their cages, landing with all of my might causing the cages to shudder from side to side, with my wings stretched out wide. I then lower my head to the top of their cage and peer through with a big beady eye. I ensure my wings are still stretched out as far as they will go, and I stare...and stare.

 
They obviously think that I am some kind of monster and they scamper back into the safety of their cotton wool nests. That’s the last I hear from them...until tomorrow night when we start all over again.

 
The next item on the agenda is to ‘free’ the birds. I squeeze my beak into the ‘catch’ on the budgie and canary cage doors and prise them open. This is very tricky with a big clumsy beak like mine. Once outside the birds stretch their wings before the flying races begin. The canaries race against the budgies; a spectacle of colour takes to the air. I always act as referee, as I’m far too big to take part.

The first race of the evening takes place from the top of the ‘angel fish’ tanks on the far side of the shop, with the finishing line on top of the cat and dog toy rack, situated to the right hand side of the front door which is on the opposite side of the shop. I sit on the shop counter and whistle for the race to begin. The winner of this race and every race come to think of it, is allowed to ‘terrorise’ the gerbils.

 
The gerbils are not my favourite animals, not for any particular reason...I just don’t like them. The race winner is allowed to fly onto the gerbil’s cage and squawk as loud as they can until all of the nasty little creatures have copied the hamsters...and scurried as fast as their little legs will carry them into the safety of their cotton wool nests. Unlike the hamsters they keep on coming back out. They are either braver or more stupid than the hamsters so we continue with our flying races and terror tactics until we all get bored.
 When the birds have had enough of gerbil terrorisation, and their wings are in need of a rest from all the racing I start the ‘sing song,’ our favourite being the Birdie Song. You should see the budgies doing all of the actions, and the canaries, well...

 
During daylight hours all you will ever hear from the canaries is a lot of tweeting and chirping, but boy can they sing...they are not too good at the Birdie Song, it’s not really their thing. They prefer more refined music, classical opera, that sort of thing. In all honesty they must have the most exquisite singing voices in the bird world. I have heard it said that the nightingale has the best singing voice in our world, but as I have never seen nor heard one before I have to be biased towards my little yellow friends and say that ‘if you’ve never heard a canary sing, then you’ve never lived.’

 
After our sing song it’s time to round up the rabbits and guinea pigs, everyone knows the routine. Any mess is picked up by the birds and deposited in the various cages. When everyone is safely back home I go on my rounds and put all of the catches back on the doors. Not much later Mr Johnston and the girls arrive back at the shop to start work for another day.

 
So the next time you visit a pet shop and all of the animals are fast asleep, you’ll know why....they’ve been up all night, and it’s time for a rest...until Mr Johnston goes home again!!