Osty & A Friend

“Alright…I have three questions.”

“Ask them.”

“Now you have to be completely honest when you answer. Don’t be around the bush or vague about anything.”

“I didn’t plan on doing either.”

“One…are you sane?”

“Last time I checked I’m a pretty stable human being.”

“I said don’t lie to me. Are you sure you haven’t been diagnosed with some type of sickness? You’re a hundred percent certain you don’t have any screws loose?”

“I don’t know of a person that doesn’t have a single screw that’s a bit shaky. I don’t think that necessarily means I have a mental problem or I’m in some way unstable.”

“Ok. Question number two…How would you know if you did have a problem? What if you’re sick and just in denial about it?”

“Well I have heard that an indication that a person might have something is them feeling they don’t have that something. That isn’t the case here though. I promise you, I’m as sane and as normal as the average person.”

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply twice. “That brings me to question number three. If what you’re saying is true, please for the love of everything rational, tell me why there’s an Emu in the living room!?”

“You mean Osty?”

“What?”

“His name is Osty. He’s not just some random Emu.”

“That’s not the point. Why is it in your house?”

“I’m not sure if you know much about pets but normally they live inside the house.”

My face froze in disbelief. “How are you saying this so casually as if it’s an everyday occurrence to have a human size bird posted up in your living room? Do you not see the issue with this?”

“I mean…I don’t see what you’re trying to get at. I wanted a pet and Osty wanted a home. That’s how most relationships work. You fill what the other person requires and vice versa. I don’t know why you’re struggling to comprehend this. Millions of people have pets.”

“Millions of people have cats, dogs, horses, maybe some fish. Shoot even an occasional lizard. Not a full grown Emu.”

“People have birds as pets all the time.”

“A parrot sure. Not an overgrown turkey!”

He looked at me in disbelief. “I can’t believe you’d say something so ignorant. So naive. It’s not even in the genus Meleagris, it's in the genus Dromaius.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. What happens when you want to take it for a walk? Where does it use the bathroom?”

“Honestly, normally I just let Osty go outside and after a couple of hours he’s back in the house. I don’t have to leave the door open either, he somehow always ends up back in the living room. I wonder how he lets himself in.”

Twenty seconds of silence fused with a confused stare took place before I asked, “What do you feed it?”

“He eats whatever’s in the fridge.”

“You have to get rid of it.”

“Never.”

“What?”

“If it was a dog you wouldn’t say ‘release him to the wild.’ Osty means a lot to me. I’m not going to abandon him because you don’t understand the nature of our relationship.”

“Nature of your relationship? That is a wild beast! It belongs in nature not cooped up inside your house.”

“Truly, I don’t care what you think he’s not going anywhere.”

A sudden shriek of glass erupted. In the midst of me trying to convince him to release this creature we took our eyes off of it and it broke through the window.”

“See what you did, bringing in all that negative energy. You made Osty run away.” Just as the sounds from his vocal chords went silent he rushed outside to see where the Emu went. I followed behind because I’m nosey and wanted to see what this bird on the loose would do. Needless to say, it did not disappoint.

If I didn’t know any better I would’ve thought this bird was a full blown destruction machine. It was destroying everything it set its eyes on. Cars were being flipped over, signs torn out of the ground, it even knocked over a jogger who was running with his dog. That was the tipping point for my friend. 

“We have to do something to stop it.”

“We? That’s your pet. This has nothing to do with me. You better use that natural bond stuff you were babbling about earlier and tame that bird.”

“You’re really not going to help?”

“Look I’ll help you but from a distance. I’m not getting anywhere near that bird on a rampage.” Just as the period capped off my sentence, the bird stopped and turned towards us. Although it was forty yards away it felt as if it’s eyes were sitting on my chest. 

“Osty!” My friend yelled out.

“Man what are you doing?”

“I’m going to bring Osty home.” 

He began to approach the bird slowly, His hands were open while he kept whispering ‘Who’s a good boy? Who's a good boy?’ I tried to warn him before that it wasn’t a dog but who am I to repeat words onto deaf ears. If he didn’t listen to me then why would he listen now?

Shockingly he made it all the way to the feathered beast. It had only moved it’s head from left to right but stood completely still the entire time. As he started petting it I began to think, “Wow, maybe they do have a special relationship.” This thought was quickly erased as the Emu headbutted my friend and ran off into the forest. 

Seeing him sprawled out in the middle of the street I had to make sure he was alive. I wasn’t sure if I’d get blamed for the murder of my friend even if it was his own idiocy that caused it. Is bird on man considered murder?

As I finally came up on his body, he was fully conscious. Muttering inaudible words to himself. 

“Speak louder. I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

A single stream of blood rushed from his forehead. “I thought we had a connection?”

“You did. He just connected his skull with yours.”

“I thought he loved me.”

“I told you to get rid of it. At least now it’s back in the wild where it belongs...if it even belongs in this country at all. 

My friend closed his eyes and said, “Well at least the Cassowary is still at home.”

“The what!?”