Of Papa boo.

Look, look Dick look. She’s gonna marry Jane some day.

This is not a shot from an aviary or a zoo. It is a shot from someday else’s backyard (it is our backyard actually).

Meet Google 1 and Google 2, termed by my mom. I’d rather call them Boo 1 and Boo 2. They are pabo or turkey (it is turkey right? God, I’m not really sure what these birds are. Hehehe).

They were given to my dad by somebody I know but you don’t know the person and you don’t know my family very well so there’s no point in writing that person’s name here or his relation with our family. What is important is why they are here. Yeah, here in the internet; where there are a million and one pictures of who’s who of animals that’s tripped by their owners by dressing them as the cutest hotdog or a basketball player or even a paparazzi reporter.

Now, this is all actually about the emotional attachment for our pets or some thing like a pencil that your best friend whom you’ve had a fight with for the last two years and was gunned down when he went to the middle east and he won’t be able to go back to the Philippines because he doesn’t want to but you miss him that’s why you don’t want to throw that pencil whose length is left to four inches long. Yes, that kind of emotional attachment.

Would you like for me to repeat that again in yodel? (Like calling… Yodel! Yochico! Bwahahaha.)

I told my mom I won’t feed those birds. They told me that those birds will be eaten this December and I can’t stand the sight of them being killed and all. I mean I fed them. It will absolutely hurt.

It is hard to let go.

Like feeding your child and you find out that they’ll be eaten this December. Wouldn’t you feel the same way as I do? Of course, the same logic applies to each.

Basta, I will not feed those birds.

They’re cuter than chickens though and less noisy.