Days later, wing weary and bleary eyed, Rosie spotted some little fishing boats, “Cool,” she thought, “ I have arrived. Spain Here I Come.”
Rosie Pink landed in the crow’s nest of one of the boats, “Wow, this is pretty dizzy up here. I feel a little ill. No wonder crows are so cranky.” She heard men chattering below in a language she almost understood, “that doesn’t sound like Florida Spanish” “Ola,” she called down, “ Me yamma is Rosie Pink. Has ta mon nona mesa megos.
(Of course Rosie, being a flamingo has very poor comprehension of Spanish and other Human languages, but she tried.)
One man looked up, pointed and all of them made strange cackling and hooting noises.
“Well,” an indignant Rosie huffed, “ How. Rude.” It is so uncomfortable here, I am dizzy and a little seasick, and I am NOT a crow to be laughed at. And I tried to be polite and talk to them. “ She gave a flap and leap (not easy on a tippy boat) and took off again.
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