Wakeup Trudy Trundal

“Wakeup Trudy Trundal. Wakeup Trudy Trundal,” squawked Reginald the resident grey parrot as the first glimmer of light peeked through the Venetian blinds.

Trudy dragged her tired body out of bed. She slipped her feet into the slippers always carefully set next to the bed and grabbed the old chenille robe off the chair. Reginald would keep up the screeching until he saw her. “I don’t know why I don’t ring your neck you sorry old bird. I’d gotten rid of you long before now if I hadn’t promised my mother on her death-bed that I’d take care of you.”

“Wakeup Trudy Trundal,” he said one more time.

“Ok, ok, I’m awake. It’s Sunday and I don’t have to go to church until 11:00. I had a rough day at the library yesterday and I sure could have used the extra sleep. But oh no, I have a stupid bird yelling at me to wakeup. Every morning it’s the same thing. I haven’t been able to sleep in once since you moved in five years ago.”

Trudy walked to the kitchen and put the coffee pot on the gas burner. Reginald ran from one side of his cage to the other excited that Trudy was up. Trudy had tried everything the pet stores had suggested from covering the cage to putting the cage in the closet, but nothing kept Reginald from daily squawking his morning greeting.

Trudy fixed a couple pancakes, giving one to Reginald. “Maybe I should just starve you. Maybe then you’d show me some respect. I bet that if I didn’t give you a pancake, you’d be nice and quiet until I got up. You’re just a selfish bird who just sits and sleeps all day and when I could sleep in, you have to wake the dead with that morning screeching.”

The more Trudy thought about it, the more upset she got. “I told my mother I would take care of you but I didn’t say I’d take care of you here at the house. I’m going to contact the zoo, and I’ll bet they have a cage to put you in. Then you can yell all you want and not bother anyone except the other birds. Yes, that is what I’m going to do the first thing Monday morning. Then I can sleep in every morning and when I retire, I’ll have no bird to ruin my morning.”

Monday morning the following story appeared in the morning edition of the Sentinel:

The Sevierville fire department received a call at 1:15am reporting a house fire at 145 Ferguson Lane. Flames engulfed the house when the firefighters arrived. They rescued the homeowner, Trudy Trundal, and took her to the local hospital for smoke inhalation. Trudy Trundal said she got out alive because her bird squawked “Wakeup Trudy Trundal.” The home was a total loss.

The doctor released Trudy later that afternoon and she took a taxi to the house to survey the damage. The taxi driver pulled into the driveway and asked Trudy, “What a mess. You want me to wait?”

“No,” was all she could manage to say. She paid the driver and stepped out to look at the burnt remains of her home.

“It’s a total loss.” All my things are gone. There is nothing left. Even the car in the garage is gone. Well, like the disaster survivor always says, at least I have my life though but right now that doesn’t seem like much consolation.

Trudy sat on the cement steps and put her hands over her eyes as tears slipped down her cheeks. What am I going to do now? Everything was ghostly quiet and it stunk like wet burnt wood.

“Wakeup Trudy Trundal,” squawked a wet, disheveled parrot walking out from beneath the bush next to the cement steps.

She gently picked up Reginald and stroked his head. “You saved my life you sorry old bird. From now on I think I’m going to love that morning greeting of yours.”