Lucky

Lucky was my first pet bird.  He was a small yellow parakeet with a white stripe under each eye.

His mate was another parakeet that we had purchased that same day with blue and white feathers, and stripes of black on her wings and head.  Her name was Fleetwing, and we referred to her as "Flit" after the hummingbird in the Disney movie Pocahontas or "Flitty."  She also had a spot of blue on each side of her face.

About 10 years ago, my family and I discovered our birds' second attempt to make their family grow from two to four in the flower pot hanging on the wall of our dining room.  It must have been pretty hard on Lucky, seeing as Flit would not abandon her babies.  He also had to bear the burden of feeding her, and therefore, had to eat more than he usually did.  For example, whenever I presented him with an apple core, he would immediately latch onto it, and begin chewing away at it like there was no tomorrow.

He must have been extremely lonesome during this time.  Everyday, after coming home from school, I would stretch myself out on the couch next to the windows in our living room, and Lucky would slowly creep down from the top of his cage located next to the couch to join me, despite the fact that I used to chase them, scare them, and hold them in my hand while trying not to hurt them.  That was my way of showing my love for them.  Remember, I was very young then.  Well, anyway, then he would hike across my head, stretch himself out across my left ear while keeping one foot secured to my hair, and start chirping and bouncing as if it were his own personal trampoline.

I didn't really mind his playtime with me, but I'm sure that my ear did, seeing as Lucky's chirping often made my ear ache.

One night a few months later, Lucky flew off of his cage, and used my shoulder as a landing pad, which was unusual for him.  I looked at him, and said, "Hey, Mom.  Look who'se decided to pay me a visit."  A couple of minutes later, I waved him off of my shoulder, and he acted like a boomerang.  It was like he was trying to tell me that he really wanted to spend time with me.  I didn't listen to him.

Lucky was nowhere to be found when my sister and I left for school the next morning.  I was not too concerned, seeing as our birds sometimes had a habit of being hard to find.

That afternoon, I was downstairs in our basement playing video games as I usually did, when my Dad's voice came down the stairs.  "Joel?"

I turned around, and answered, "What?"

"I found Lucky under the couch.  He's dead."

I couldn't believe it.  "What?"

"He's dead."

My legs didn't waste any time getting me upstairs, and into our kitchen.  My Dad was preparing dinner, and glanced up at me, "I got him on a spatula out in the living room."

I quickly rushed into my favorite pet's tomb, and saw him lying there on his back, not moving, and his black eyes staring blankly at me.  What happened?

And now, thanks to my new Kindle Fire and the "Birdland" App, I can have as many birds as I want without my Mom yelling about how big of a mess they make or how much work they create.  Or how expensive they can be.