If you can’t get that lined up, then it’s highly unlikely you’re going to manage any of the other birds, the four Collie birds, the three French hens (a bit difficult, but manageable), the two Turtle Doves, the six Geese, or the seven Swans. You can hire people to be the leaping lords, the milking maids, the ladies dancing and the pipers with their pipes; but none of it will work if you can’t find a Partridge who will be very happy to sit pretty in a pear tree, with or without the pears.
You’ve found a couple different kinds of Partridges, but every time you put one in the tree, it jumps out with wings flapping. All you’re asking is for the Partridge to sit in the tree long enough for you to get the delivery made. After the door’s opened and the thing is brought into the house, you don’t care what it does.
You’ve tried wiring it’s feet to the branches, but it just flops over and hangs upside down almost immediately. You thought of duct tape, but the bird looks funny with silver-gray feet, and a sing stuck to the trunk of the tree. You’ve also considered the possibility of getting a bird stuffed, but that seems to ruin the joie de vivre of the whole idea. You might as well give the girl a painting of a bird in a tree.
So in the end, after cleaning up the Partridge droppings, you hire an artist who paints a beautiful picture of a Partridge in a pear tree. Of course, it’s not a winter scene so you’ve got both bird and pears in the picture, but it will do.
Little do you know the song is wrong, at least it’s wrong where any Partridges in North America are concerned. Maybe if you’d tried to put together the whole 12 doo-dads of Christmas thing over in Europe you wouldn’t have had any problems. Here in the United States there are two partridges species, but neither of them spend much, if any time in trees. Cornell Labs could have told you all about it. Then maybe you would have rewritten the song and put a Chickadee in a pear tree.