Literally. I lost him! He was last seen flying and bobbing in the wind, headed into the wild blue yonder.
Atticus Finch the Fabulous Budgie is gone.
He chose a really beautiful day to bust out the back door and wing his way into history. I was minding my own business working in the stained glass studio with him chirping (what seemed at the time) happily on his perch across the room. I went outside for something, and when I came back through the door, he flew into my face screeching and flapping and swerving until he busted out the doorway. Up into the air he raced doing loop the loops in pure joy (or panic ~ I’ll never know) until he swerved and went into the oaks just outside the yard.
The rascal has never ever once indicated that he would fly away. He seemed happy enough having the run of the house, but I guess he yearned for something more than a full food bowl, fresh water, music on the radio, toys galore, treats and attention. After all, he is a bird, and birds have needs. They need to fly in the sky, land in trees, face unknown dangers, probably go hungry and thirsty, get cold and lonely, and go on adventures just like the rest of us.
I frantically searched high and low in the trees I saw him go to. He was either hiding very well (for a bright blue bird) or had already vamoosed to a better locale by the time I ran out there. I moved his cage (habitat/jail cell/coffin?) to where I last saw him, and called and called and called. When my husband got home he walked the pasture with me calling him as well. Nothing.
That night a big cold windy wet storm rolled in and I spent a sleepless night imagining the worst. Dawn broke bright warm and sunshiney, but my hope was gone. There was a chicken hawk flying around the farm looking for a snack all day (it was a Sunday) and I was on pins and needles for Atticus’ safety. Perhaps he went to a neighbor’s house and they saw him and rescued him? Nope. No one had seen him. I was crushed.
I left his cage on the deck with the door open for two weeks. A curious wren went inside but didn’t stay long (was that huge cage really that horrible of a jail cell?). Some sparrows checked it out (maybe looking for their little blue friend who called to them daily from the wire dungeon) but soon flew away as well. No Atticus anywhere.
He was so cute and his happy singing and chattering and chirping and made me smile. I thought he was an angel. But perhaps his singing and chattering and chirping was in horror instead, and the thought I was an ogre?
Either way, I did my best by him, and loved him dearly. I hope he has flown to a better circumstance and is now singing in joy.
Bye bye birdie!© Copyright 2014 Leegay, All rights Reserved. Written For: Truth In Decorating