A few weeks ago there was a parakeet at my bird feeder. They are not native to my area and it will not survive the winter here. He had gotten out of his safe home.
I know nothing about parakeets but decided to try putting out my finger. If people let him fly loose in a house he may be trained.
No luck. He’s not a finger bird. At least not my finger.
He came every day around 7 p.m. We had dinner together – me on the porch and he at my bird feeder. We chatted about our day (at least I did – he just ate).
I started getting that inner sense that says perhaps I should do something to save it from sure doom in December. (I hate that feeling! It always means work. And heartache.)
There is a bird place near my gym. They sell, buy, and board birds of all kinds. I went there. I found that it’s not unusual for people to lose their birds. The wings need to be clipped so they can’t fly. That sounded extreme.
Flying is the best thing about birds. Soaring again the sky is a symbol of freedom.
Unless I was willing to withhold food (for all my other birds too) and put out a birdcage with food, it wasn’t likely I would catch it. (In my vision I saw 20 doves in a parakeet cage cooing for more chow but no parakeet.) Besides there are other feeders in my neighborhood. I didn’t think this was a dumb bird.
A woman at my gym caught a parakeet a few weeks back. They clipped the wings, bought a cage and food. Then it promptly died. Birds are delicate. You know what happens to people when you (symbolically) clip their wings.
The parakeet went away for a few days, then was back again. Now I haven’t seen it in a week.
It was the most beautiful blue and white one I’ve ever seen. My last memory was as it soared through the trees. “Free as a bird” as the saying goes.
Perhaps when it gets cold I will be able to catch it huddled up somewhere, trying to get warm. Maybe a hawk had it for breakfast. Or it went home. (I like to make my own happy endings in my head. That keeps me sane…sort of.)
My last memory is of a beautiful blue bird enjoying its freedom, flying without a care along with finches, cardinals and doves.
This has changed my attitude about caged birds. They need to be where they can exist free. With unclipped wings.
Fly high blue friend. I’ll be here when it gets cold.