Isabel Bogdan - The Peacock

Ryszard did what he could. He took Albert and the bucket of feed with him, leaving Britney – Aileen’s dog, who could be somewhat hysterical at times – at home just in case. Albert was a border collie mix, a sheep dog through and through, and he was in his element. With the clatter of the bucket at the front and the dog barking at the back, they lured and drove the peacocks a good distance through the woods and out into an open field. Ryszard scattered feed generously across the field. He hoped it would keep the birds occupied for a while and they wouldn’t return to the big house too quickly. If he did this a few times a day, he thought, the peacocks would probably keep their distance from the house and the blue car until Sunday. At night the birds were always in the woods anyway, roosting somewhere in the trees, and he’d scatter some more feed first thing tomorrow morning. Besides, he didn’t think anything would happen anyway, the teenage bird’s hormonal confusion had to be over by now. Even a peacock had to grow up at some point, and having done so, he’d be able to mate normally next year instead of throwing himself at everything which was blue. After all, peacocks aren’t exactly people. People, thought Ryszard, suffered from hormonal confusion for a remarkably long time. He counted himself in that.

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