Everyone should get to know a bird, because what you find out would surprise you and change your outlook on the whole animal kingdom.
–
Dear B.B.,
You made us all laugh. You were an avian comedian.
When you were a baby you liked to hunker down under my hair.
You knew you name and liked to say things like PRETTY BIRD PRETTY PRETTY B.B.
You had your moments of vanity.
You liked to visit your friend in the mirror.
You liked to sit on my finger.
We had a special song.
You took baths in a big glass pie plate and liked to make a huge mess.
You always bit Mark on the neck. We called you ATTACK BIRD. It’s like you were pretending to be a hawk.
We still chuckle over the time that you tossed a plastic clothespin on Piper’s head.
You did something we called The KLING KLANG.
You like to play repeated games of I Will Drop The Ball And You Will Pick It Up.
You were a good friend.
You got sick. We brought you to the bird hospital yesterday but the outlook was not good. The vet didn’t know what was up, only that you had lost of lot of weight. We guessed at digestive issues. We think you ate too much grit, which, interestingly enough, is sold at all pet stores even though domestic budgies don’t actually need any grit.
I shouldn’t have complained about the $168 dollars we spent on your health care yesterday, because you were a good and valued member of our family. This expenditure was an unwritten part of our contract with you.
I held you in my hands and fed you baby bird formula all morning. You looked like you were on the mend, and then you started to fret. I brought you over to the window so you could see the sunshine. You gave a few weak flaps and quietly died in my hands.
Strangely, Piper had come over and had lain at my feet, watching, maybe even understanding.
I have shed tears over your death my little friend. Some may say that you were just a bird, but you were much more than that to us.
