That one Time I was Viciously Attacked by Wild Vultures in Branson

Ok, so maybe "viciously attacked" is a little strong considering that they never actually touched me. And I guess I should clarify that they were actually Macaws, not Vultures. And since they were part of a pet show, most people wouldn't classify them as wild. But let's be honest, if I'd titled this, "That one Time Two Professionally Trained Macaws Flew Over my Seat in Branson" you probably wouldn't be so eager to read this. Click-bait, ladies, and gentlemen.

Anyone who knows me well knows that I can't stand birds. It doesn't matter if it's a Hummingbird or a Hawk, they're all equally terrifying. And if they can talk, well, that's just plain witchcraft. I mean come on, if there could only be one species of animal that could talk, why in the world did it have to be birds? Maybe that's what I'll ask the Lord when I get to Heaven, "Why not dogs, or cats, or even gerbils? Why'd it have to be birds?" I've been afraid of birds for as long as I can remember. This is probably because when I was a kid, my neighbor had Martin houses and the angry mother birds would dive-bomb me as I rode my bike to the little store beside my house. Evil creatures, those mama Martins. So I usually try to avoid birds at all costs. I now know better than to let my mom convince me that I'd really enjoy aviaries, and I refuse to eat outdoors at restaurants. However, when my mom mentioned going to the Amazing Pets show while we were in Branson, the thought that there might be birds there never even crossed my mind. Probably because I don't consider birds pets. Now I know some of you probably disagree. Some of you may even have a pet bird. And that's ok, good for you. Just know that if I'm aware of this, I'll probably never go to your house. But seriously, why birds? You can't cuddle a bird. They don't run to the door to greet you when you get home from work. Well, they might, but running birds are creepy, they're like giant, feather-clad roaches.

The first half of the show was great. Real pets, you know, dogs and cats, jumped hurdles, rolled barrels, and other cute tricks. Then after intermission, the announcer said something that made my skin crawl. He said that the trainer was going to showcase his amazing birds. Oh. My. Gosh. As soon as the two trainers came out on stage, I started sliding down in my seat. If they did anything on stage, I couldn't tell you what it was, I had slid down far enough that I couldn't see over the head of the man in front of me. Then the trainers started to make their way off of the stage and down the aisles. I slid down a little farther. "They better not stop at our row," I mumbled to my mom, who was already laughing. I'm sure you can guess exactly what happened. Yep, the two trainers, birds in hand, stopped at either end of our aisle. "Seriously?" I groaned and slid down in my seat as far as I could go. I wasn't technically on the floor, but I was close. I slid down so far that my head was laying in my seat. From this position I watched, and felt, the birds fly over our row one-at-a-time. After that little demonstration, the trainers proceeded on down the aisles. I thought it was over. It wasn't. They then proceeded to have the birds fly in an X across the audience. By this point, my mom couldn't breathe or see through the tears that were now streaming down her face, and those around me were turning around to see what I was doing in the floor. "I don't do birds," I told them. After they finally took the birds backstage, I crawled back into my chair to watch the last little bit of the show which included Siberian Huskies and a cat performing a trick that had apparently been done in the movie, Big Fish. 

So yeah, no more pet shows for me.