This is my fourth story that I am putting on here.
This is the story about a bird
that I grew very attached to,
and a lesson I feel that he taught me.
When I was about one or two years old I asked for a puppy, but my aunt whom I live with said no, because I was so young. I was disappointed, and she took me from Des Moines, Iowa – where we live – out to Great Falls Montanna, where my aunt Mary lives – and a baby Cockatiel was plopped into my hands. He was hardly weaned, and he couldn’t eat bird seed, so I had to chew up food that he could eat (it didn’t always taste good) and I had to feed him out of my mouth – and I named him “Lucky,” because everybody said he was Lucky to have me – but I felt that
it was just the opposite.
Lucky grew to be very smart – he would whistle, and sing along while I played “Hot Crossed Buns” on my recorder when I was in Elementary school. He also learned tricks: he could tell pennies, quarters, dimes, and nickles apart from one another: he also had a horse. You know those little automatic horses that you can put batteries in, and they will walk? Well, I had one, and I would put the saddle on, and the reins, and he would sit on the saddle, hold the reins in his beak, and he would ride that little horse as it walked across the room. He would also follow me everywhere – whether he would walk on the ground after me, or fly short distances and land on things and follow me, but he loved to be with me.
Then I got another bird, a female Cockatiel named Misty. They tried many times to try and have babies, but they (being a little old) never succeeded. I took Lucky to school when I was in the 8th grade, and a boy tried to tease him, and he chased the kid all around the room. The teacher thought it was funny, and laughed.
Then, that same year, on May 22, 2004, I walked into the dinning room…Lucky had lost the eyesight in one of his eyes, and had to be in a different cage then Misty, and I noticed that Lucky wasn’t sitting by the mirror that I had in his cage. (He was a ham, and would always sit next to that mirror so that he could see himself.)But this time, Lucky wasn’t on the perch next to his mirror. He was not sitting on the perch eating his seeds. He was not sitting on the edge of his water dish, drinking. He was lying on the floor of his cage, curled up in the corner…and the first pet I had ever had, who had taught me how to love, and had given me the love of animals that I now have, was gone.
I felt like I had failed my best friend – I felt like I had lost my “little brother” as I called him. I buried him with the help of my friend, Madison. We put him in a pretty aqua marine box, and I wrapped him in a towel with a pretty duck on it, and I buried him in my side yard where my bunny, Bambi is buried.
I miss him, and I know that to some, it might seem stupid to miss a bird – but I grew up with Lucky. When I was sick, he would sit on the pillow next to me, and he would also “give me kisses”. Now I will never see Lucky, and This makes the fourth life in my life that I have lost: my grandpa, bunny, and my dog died this year as well.
Lucky did teach me something that I can never forget: Lucky taught me how to love animals – and he taught me the responsibility of having a pet. And I miss him, even though I know it is silly to say that I miss a bird, but to me, Lucky was not a bird – he was a friend.
He was One Lucky Bird.
I will always remember him.
| Lucky |
| CrystalAnn Camps |