Butters isn't too bad, actually. He's slow, a little fat, and relatively passive once he's in your hands. But he's sneaky. He waits, once the experiment in the operant chamber is over, for that crack of light to show as I open the door to the chamber. Once he sees the light, he leaps for freedom. Of course, the combination of my higher intelligence and his lower velocity means that he never gets the slightest taste of liberty.
Terrance doesn't actually mean to be mean. He's just too strong
for his own good. We struggle every day. I put him in the sleeve,
he rolls off the scale and is lucky that I'm observant enough to
catch him before he hits the ground.
Jimmy. Now Jimmy is an asshole. Jimmy bites the shit out of me
when he has the chance. Most of the pigeons aren't smart enough
to reach around, stretch their necks to look behind them, and
bite the hand resting on their backs.
So here's what I want to say to them:
Dear Terrance the Terrible, Butters, and Jimmy,
Every day starts the same. I check on you, weigh you, put you
in the operant chamber, run the experiment, take you out of the
operant chamber, weigh you, put you back in your cages, water you,
give you grit, and feed you. Pretty much in that same order.
Yet somehow you expect something to be different. You think that
maybe, maybe this is the day you get to escape my claws and fly free.
It's time to accept the fact that this will never happen.
Also: y'all are assholes.