In my quest to find a daily topic to write about, I have decided to select the first thing that pops in to my mind — a rather risky writing technique as evidenced by yesterday’s foray into the world of armpit hair. Today, however, a more polite (although equally random) subject has emerged from my cranium. Kiwi birds.
“Damn, I’m cute.”
First of all, I have to put this out there. It sucks to be a kiwi. Forget feeling sorry for the IQ-challenged dodo. And don’t waste your pity on the ostrich with his head in the sand. The unfortunate kiwi is the feathered friend truly deserving of your sympathy. To begin with, he is incapable of flight. Why? His bones aren’t hollow like other bird bones and his wings are short and stubby — making him the T-Rex of birds.
Secondly, they lay the largest eggs in relation to their body size out of any bird in the world. Mama Kiwi is the size of a chicken, but she lays eggs the size of an ostrich’s. If you thought childbirth was a bitch, be glad you didn’t have to lay an egg the size of your pillow. And that’s one of those big puffy pillows —not your old down-filled one that has been flattened to a crepe. You know, the yellowed, drool-riddled Obusform that, as Tom Papa would say “looks more like a Civil War bandage.”
Even plush versions of this tiny New Zealander have it rough. “Beak” the Kiwi Beanie Baby was produced for only one year and sadly can now be purchased for a cent online. Meet Beak.
“I am Beak.”
In New Zealand, these long-billed birds are simply called “Kiwis.” The fuzzy fruit is referred to as a “kiwifruit.” Ordering a kiwi smoothie “down under” may actually result in receiving a slurry of feathers and beak.
Before you begin feeling overly sorry for this little bird, you will be happy to note that it has enjoyed a certain degree of fame. After all, its fuzzy body has been gracing tins of shoe polish for over a century. Yes, since 1906, KIWI’s name and image has been splashed across the front of this product that is now available worldwide. The company’s founder chose the name “KIWI” in honour of his New Zealand-born wife. Plus, he thought the bird looked nice on his small round tins.
I’m not sure if being the star of the “laces and polishes” section of one’s neighbourhood shoe star fully compensates one for having stubby arms, laying gargantuan eggs, and being worth squat in the Beanie Baby trade. If you see a kiwi, give it a hug. Odds are that the poor bugger has been through a lot.
If it’s any consolation to the kiwi community, people are blogging about you:
New Zealand Department of Conservation
Do you call the kiwifruit a kiwi?
The Embiggens Project 
