Yes. I think of the commercial in which he’s BBQing at home with his wife, Limu Emu, and its mate(?). He’s going on again about insurance and his wife says “Doug, can we talk about something other than work? It’s the weekend.” She says it with a distinct note of irritation, perhaps even desperation in her voice. She glances toward the emus, as if they could provide some backup or agreement with her, but they are non-verbal wild creatures who do not belong in a suburban backyard, and cannot help.
She clearly is wondering how she got to this place, keeping up a brave face, pretending to be a happy, “good wife”, when she feels trapped in a prison of utter, utter banality and meaninglessness. Once she thought Doug’s enthusiasm was infectious and assumed it applied to all aspects of life; but it wasn’t until after their wedding that she realized that his boundless enthusiasm only applied to life insurance, a commodity that may be a necessity of life but is a deadly boring subject to discuss for any length of time, let alone the length and depth to which Doug goes on about it. She thinks of her youth before she met Doug; her hopes and dreams for her future, all lost to her now, and despairs.
And, why the emus? They are disgusting creatures that shed feathers everywhere and shit over everything. They constantly get agitated by unexpected noises, and have strong potential for violence. Later on during that very backyard BBQ, an acorn fell from a tree onto the table, sending Limu Emu into a paroxysm of squawking and running in circles. Doug almost got his eyes pecked out trying to calm it down. What then, she thought, if that did happen? At least now she can dream of divorce or just running away. If he was blinded she’d feel obligated to care for him, and would truly be imprisoned in an endless future of mediocrity and hopelessness.