From the personal journal of Guido Garcia

November 29, 2010

Hola my friends. I am sorry I could not get my first post up until esta noche. The new woman the Czech zoo has forced on me has been a complete pendeja. Constant nagging. Constant complaining. Bueno, volvamos a lo que estábamos diciendo.

I have been following the recent updates on our new blog, and feel I must also share my story of mi bello and I. First, many of our new amigos have been wondering if Detlef and I are keeping in contact. We are… almost daily. The wonders of modern technology make it seem as if he is here in the Czech Republic with me. Me gusta Skype-ing with Detlef prior to a nighttime del sueño, it makes me sad he is not here to share my nest. I will now pick the story up where Detlef left off.

Life as a vulture can be a lonely one. We have no allies in the sky, nor on the ground. It doesn’t help that we squawk and hiss at anything that comes near a carcass that is providing our meal. Often we smell so badly that we could kill an animal with our stench. So when a vulture finds someone who is simpatico to our dilemma, we usually stay friends for life. I thought I had found a special someone in my wife, but she went loco. I was lucky to find someone better in Detlef.

After setting up our new casa and becoming more familiar with our surroundings, I took Detlef to del mar for a special meal of pescado and abalone. It was delicious. Detlef said he never had anything but forest carcass, so this meal was special treat. We flew back home, and I thought we would stay here forever. A year or two went by with nothing of interest to write about. We met a lovely gentleman crow by the name of Cronus and another griffon vulture Nyx. Both señiors lived on the other side of the cliff. Vultures and crows don’t normally get along, but we had great scavenges with Cronus. He had lived in this area all his life, and knew some great hotspots for fresh kills. Nyx was interesting, as he never lived in more than one place for more than two years. His life experiences and stories were nothing short of amazing, and it made me want to travel the Mediterranean with Det for the rest of our days.

One afternoon, Nyx was talking to Det and I about a rumor he had heard about the Greek government’s vulture trap and sell program. Nyx claimed his cousin had flown in on a deer carcass and was feasting on what was left of the animal’s kidney when a government agent trapped him in a net. I asked Nyx how he knew this to be true, and he said he went looking for his cousin after not seeing him for a few days, and saw signs of a struggle. I was torn on whether to believe this story; Nyx had more world experiences than I had, but what if his cousin was muy estupido and simply was killed by a hunter? Regardless, I felt Detlef and I should be more careful on our hunts.

The idea of being more careful while scavenging left my cabeza as quickly as it got there. Vultures always have to fear a hunter, but a government? Why would the Greek government be selling vultures to people? And who are these gente tremenda who are buying vultures? Looking back, I wish the fear stayed with me. I was about to lead us into an awful trap.

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From the personal journal of Detlef Cox

November 29, 2010
I submitted yesterday’s post to numerous media outlets around the globe, but not a single reporter issued a retraction. But the writing has been therapeutic for me, as I miss my Guido every day. The heartless German zoo keepers with a thug mentality ripped him from our nest and sent him to the Czech Republic. Below is the second part of my journey with Guido.

Guido and I watched the sun rise from our cave on our first day together. Just as we flew off, I spotted a rainbow and told Guido we should fly in its direction. Vulture legend says that flying into rainbows brings good fortune. We had not discussed where we would end up, but Guido thought we should fly as far as possible today, find shelter and then discuss our options that night. We both wanted to head near the ocean, and I was fond of finding an island off the coast of Greece. My wish was Guido would agree. But, he had told me before that he was feeling drawn to his native Spain.

The flight was long, but I was glad we decided to travel all day. We circled to try and find food and a tree, and I quickly spotted a dead lynx.  The lynx looked like it had been dead for two days, but was relatively untouched. As we waddled up to the lynx, we noticed the bloated stomach. There is almost no greater smell in the world than the first whiffs into the distended belly of a dead beast. I looked at Guido, and saw his excitement and felt his hunger. We tore into the animal and ate like teenagers. After the meal, Guido built a small nest for us and asked me where I thought we should fly to.

“Anywhere warm,” I suggested. “I like anywhere in Crete, Greece or Africa. Serbia has treated me well, but these winters are killing me.”

“I feel the draw of my native land, but think our esposas will check there first,” Guido said. “Let’s fly to Greece in the morning.”

I don’t remember the last time I had slept so soundly and so comfortably. It could have been Guido’s constant warm embrace, or it could have been the fact I was truly free again. Prior to my marriage to Jozefina, I was on my own for seven years and loved every second of my independence. Now, I was starting again with someone who was truly going to be a partner in all aspects of a relationship. A Yin to my Yang. A Lois Lane to my Clark Kent.

In the morning, we flew southwest to Greece. The journey took almost two full days, but was worth every second. Guido led the way into Epirus over the Ionian Sea and continued until we reached the Vikos Gorge. It was the most stunning landscape I had ever seen. Guido said he had heard about this area from relatives, and that we could scavenge like nomads here. The food was a smorgasbord of flavors: horses, foxes and deer. Guido also promised to take me to the ocean in search of dead sea creatures. I had only heard what a rotting fish tasted like, so I couldn’t wait for our date to the ocean. We made a quick nest for the night and agreed to go in search of a more suitable home at daybreak. My head hit our pillow of needles and wildflowers and I did not open my eyes again until the morning.

I awoke to find Guido gone, but as I looked up to stretch my neck, I saw him circling high above. He looked so magnificent, and I yearned for him at that moment. He must have seen me stirring about, as he was on the ground minutes later. We embraced, and he told me that he found a perfect home for us. We left our camp, and he led me to a tall cliff that looked down upon a deep valley filled with flora and fauna. Guido had found a good-sized ledge on the side of the cliff that had a slight overhang of rock and plenty of floor space.

“How do you find such places, Guido?” I asked him. “It’s nearly perfect. Shelter from the elements and fantastic views of the valley floor.”

“Just luck I suppose mi bello,” Guido replied.

“Luck-schmuck. You’re the perfect package of boyish good looks, wit, scavenging ability AND you can sure pick a home.”

I thought we would live the next fifty to seventy years here together. But a fateful day was on the horizon for both of us.

From the personal journal of Detlef Cox

November 28, 2010

I never thought I’d agree with Sarah Palin when she calls the media “corrupt bastards” or “biased”, but the mocking tone in nearly every article about the loss of my partner Guido has me spitting my stomach acid at anyone near my nest.  Please allow me to provide the proper background and information left out of the story.

It was a lovely day for soaring, scavenging and feeding on dead animals in Tara National Park.  I was born and bred in this part of Serbia and have always felt that the Serbian mountains are an underrated part of Europe.  The Drina River had just passed under me when I thought of my father, Milos Cox, teaching me to hunt in the area.  I looked over at my friend Guido Garcia who was flying next to me and smiled at him.  Call it what you wish, a Bromance or Man Time, but he and I cherished this time together, since both of us were living in loveless relationships.  My wife Jozefina was the type of vulture that couldn’t be pleased.  I would scavenge my tail feathers off to provide for her and our daughter Ena, but it was never good enough.  And if she wasn’t yelling at me, she was passed out on Laudanum.  Guido had it much worse.  About two years ago, he and his wife Juanita found out they were unable to have chicks.  Juanita blamed herself, and fell into a deep depression.  Despite the steady diet of Prozac, Xanax and Zoloft, she has been unable to regain that lift in her wings anymore and somehow developed a combine case of necrophobia and acrophobia.

We came across a deer carcass and took enough meat back to our respective nests.  Both of us told our wives that we had not yet fed, so were going to head back to the deer.  We made it back to the carcass and headed for home.  After an hour of flying, a massive storm approached.  Guido and I quickly took shelter in a small cave on the side of a cliff.  I assessed the situation and felt that it was best we hunker down in the cave for the night.  Night was coming, and while we probably could have made it home, I was overcome with the thought of spending yet another evening watching my wife drink Laudnaum and Sprite (Sip-Sip as she called it) made my talons curl.  Guido and I had a small meal, and talked for the next few hours.  The conversation was something I would never forget.

“To tell you the truth,” said Guido, “I’ve lost complete interest in Juanita.  She’s a zombie… está muerta.  I feel awful, but there’s nothing I can do to change the situation.”

“Do you try and talk to her?”

“Talk?  When she’s not looking over the edge of the nest and freaking out, or crying, I try and tell her how I feel.  But it’s a lost cause and a battle I’m not interested in fighting anymore.”

“I guess that means you haven’t gotten laid in a while, eh?”  I asked jokingly.

“Detlef, I’m going to tell you something, but it cannot leave this cueva”  Guido had a steely look in his eye.

“Sure Guido.  Anything for you.”

Guido paused for a moment and said, “I’ve found comforts… elsewhere.”

“Like those filthy porno videos I found on your computer?  I never knew a wing could bend in that direction.”

“No.  It’s in-person.”

“Aw Guido!  Please tell me you’re not stalking chicks at the high school.  I can’t keep that to myself.”

“Absolutely not.” Guido was not laughing, nor was his crooked beak cracking a smile.

“Then what?  I’m not following.”

“Lo siento, Detlef.  I don’t mean to be cryptic, but it’s hard for me to up and say out loud.  I’ve been meeting men off of VultureHunt.com.”

I was shocked.  “You’re gay?”

“I don’t know Det.  I have never found much comfort with las mujeres, and there’s something about having an hombre fuerta take you under his wing, scavenge for food, and then clean carcass bacteria off your feet with his strong urine.”

Just then, a loud clap of thunder echoed through the cave.  I jumped and flew back, landing almost inside of Guido’s makeshift nest.  My eyes met Guido’s, and for the briefest of moments, it seemed time had stood still.

“Det we are suffering from similar familia situations.  We can be a comfort to one another,” said Guido as he outstretched his wing to bring me closer.  The smell of dead carcass was on his breath.  The rain and thunder beating down all around us.  It was an erotic, masculine moment and I was trying to hide my growing arousal.

“I don’t know Guido,” I said with my voice quivering.  “I want to find love, and like you have rarely found it with women.”  I was taking deep, panic breaths to try and calm myself.

“You’re so mistreated by that bitch of a pájaro, Det.  You deserve amor and respect.  I have thought of you as more than an amigo for years.”  His slight Spanish accent was intoxicating.

“But what can we do, Guido?  Up and fly away?  Don’t we have responsibilities?”

“To who? A wife terrified of flying?  Or another who is so doped up on opiates that she has fecal blow-outs all over your nest?  There’s nada for us here, Det.  Let’s make a new vida together.”

My pea-sized brain was a mix of thoughts and emotions.  I looked around the cave wall as if the walls were going to give me the answer until my eyes met with Guido’s.  He wrapped his wings around me and said, “I will be there for you.  Always.”

The decision was made.  We’d leave Tara in the morning.

Disclaimer:  The creators of this blog are champions of gay rights, and feel that no human being should ever face discrimination of any kind.  However, the fact that people are protesting the recent story of a zoo separating two supposed “gay” birds is absurd.  We encourage those who are wasting their time protesting the vulture separation to help those who are experiencing injustice and discrimination simply because they are gay.  Secondly, while some artistic license has been exercised, there are facts about vultures in the writing.  For example, vulture urine actually kills bacteria they pick up while walking on dead animals, and Griffon Vultures live in Serbia, Greece and Spain.

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