Giver's remorse

Last night a man who was almost as wide as he was tall, 5'4" perhaps, followed a wisp of a woman into my house. This wisp was not the elegant willowy type of wisp but the clumsy awkward type. She had no teeth, or if she did, she didn't keep them in her mouth. She had difficulty standing straight. In fact, and this is an observation for descriptions sake, she walked like Marty Feldman in Young Frankenstein. As she crossed the threshold she yelled in the voice of a ten year old girl, "Where are they?" No hello or introduction. She wanted my finches. Earlier in the day I had advertised my finches "free to a good home" on craigslist. I should have realized that "a good home" is subjective. Probably most people think they can provide a good home for a pair of finches when they decide they want a pair of finches. I am pretty sure last night's visitors thought so. But, as "a good home" is subjective, my opinion is that they did not have a good home for the finches. I also doubt they could provide a good home for a dog, a cat or a person. Perhaps I am prejudice. Perhaps I am just a worried former finch owner. Maybe both. But if I ever have to give animals away again I am going to figure out a way to assess the quality of the animal's new home. Before they left the man said, "What kinda birds are these again?" I said, "This one is a spice finch and this one is a society finch." The woman said, "Oh, finches. That's right! I keep thinking they're quakers." I wished the finches new care-takers were Quakers. I shouted care instructions to them as they hot-footed it to their car. They did not seem interested.

Anybody want a pair of cockatiels?