As you know, I recently became obsessed with people called Jesus, God, Lucifer etc Here in England, where understatement is everything, we tend to avoid epic names. You don’t tend to bump into many Beowulfs or Boudicas, unless you live…
I recently asked this online. My friend Craig replied: Same reason as so few people are called God, Poseidon, Zeus, Apollo, Demeter etc. Snoopy is the God of dogs. True, unless you’re polytheistic on the God of dogs question. You’d…
This was today’s question over lunch in the Peacock household. We decided that a palaver was marginally worse than a kerfuffle but weren’t sure why. The whole thing frankly caused a right how do you do (probably slightly worse than…
I’ve decided to become an Emotional Support Peacock.
This is because (1) I’m a Peacock (2) I have a passport (3) I like flying (4) I can occasionally be emotionally supportive when I’m not in a fowl mood and (5) I rarely squawk or peck strangers on planes.
Emotional Support Animals really are a thing for anxious flyers. In the USA (where else?) you can legally board a flight with one, as long as it’s on the approved list, you have written permission from a mental health professional and evidence that the animal is ‘trained to behave properly in a public setting’.
But, inexplicably, peacocks are banned. A nervous New Yorker was recently cruelly denied the right to board a United Airlines plane from Newark to LA with an emotionally supportive peafowl in the next seat.
Odd. I’ve flown from Newark to LA several times and never been apprehended.
United’s brazenly peacockist stance is no doubt a response to a boom in requests for Emotional Support Pets. They’ve risen by 75% to 76,000 in a year. Meanwhile, Delta Airlines have reported an 84% increase in onboard pet ‘incidents’.
So peacocks are banned, along with hedgehogs, ferrets, rodents, non-household birds and so on.
But it appears that elks, wildebeests, porcupines, giraffes, sheep, gibbons, shrimps, marmosets, barnacles etc have slipped through the net. It makes no sense whatsoever.
That’s why I’m offering my services. Club or Business Class obviously. And only to glamorous locations. With complimentary Champagne.
Scruffy lives in my parents’ garden. What’s going on with the feathers? Moulting? Using too much hair gel? Going for a distressed, post-punk look? Just a bit eccentric? Calling all ornithologists, birdwatchers, twitchers, birders, blackbirds, hairdressers …..