When my old friend Mary told me that she was going to have to take a lie detector test for the police, I looked at her, shocked. “What for?”

“It’s about the dead bird.”

“Are you referring to your husband’s prized cockatiel that dropped dead a few weeks back?”

She nodded, “Lawrence was so upset that he called the police, and everyone who had contact with KiKi is being called in for a lie detector test.”

“For a bird? Isn’t that – pun very much intended – overkill?”

“It would be except that it turns out that her death is being thought of as extreme animal cruelty, which is a felony.”

“You’re kidding, I thought she just got sick and died.”

“The vet tested her and she was poisoned. The sentence can be up to three years in state prison along with a fine up to $20,000.”

“But, Mary, surely Lawrence doesn’t think you did it!”

“Unfortunately, he’s so sick with grief that he doesn’t seem to be thinking straight. Plus, it doesn’t help that I’ve said more than once that I’d gladly kill that bird since KiKi’s talking drove me crazy.”

“But that was just frustration on your part.”

“True, but apparently I’m the prime suspect. Nobody else seems to have as much motive as I do.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to go into the police station and tell the truth. “Yes, the bird drove me to distraction but I didn’t poison it.”

“That will settle the matter, right?”

“I hope so but I’m nervous about it. Surely, they’ll understand that I was fond of KiKi. I mean just the day before she died I gave her a big bowl of guacamole. She loved avocados, after all. Why would I do that if I didn’t love that damned bird?”