When I was around ten years old, I was introduced to birds, both domestic and exotic.
My first bird was a small blue Budgie (Parakeet) of whom my sister named,'Big Blue'
I then dove into the world of birds and when I was 13, I bred my first pair of cockateils.
This eventually turned into the breeding, weening, and raising of a variety of birds. congo African Greys, Red Wing Macaws, Blue and Gold Macaws, Many variants of Soncures, Sulfur Crested Cockatoos, Umbrella Cockatoos, Love Birds, and many other types of the larger exotics.
Of all of these, my favorite was a small, crippled conure. He was a breed of Sun Conure, and some other that I wasn't aware of. When he was a baby, he was perched into the doorway of the cage, and the door fell shut, breaking his feet and lower legs. After heling,he had a limp and was severely 'pigeon toed'. I named his pumpkinhead for a very obvious reason, and for a very long time, he was my 'best friend', so to speak.
He'd fall alseep on my knee or thigh while I'd type at the computer, or stealth upto my ear while perched atop my shoulder, and give me a 'love yew, retty bird'. He'd take showers with me and frolic under the mist of a spray bottle. His eyes would pin when i talked to him, he'd grind his bill when we'd play together. He'd jump into bowls of (unbuttered, unsalted) popcorm that I'd made to watch a movie wiht, and play in them. It wasn't just food, it was play time. He was adorable.
His cage was that of an older style, like a tower. It had a slanted roof much like /\ And when I'd walk ito the room, he'd slide down to the side, and wait for me to pick him up.
He was my little pumpkinhead.
Flash foreward to now, I'm nearly nineteen years old, and I havent seen him since I was 16.
As stated in another thread regarding Divorce, I said that My mother took the birds,and I moved in with my father. Because of the California Laws,and NewCastle's disease, I couldn't bring any of my birds across the state border.
I'd call every week to talk to my mother, only to ask how my birds were doing, and every week she'd tell me things were fine.
A Few weeks ago, I talked with my sister, of whom i dont get along with very well. I asked her about pumpkinhead, and all i got was a ' What? Didn't mom tell you?'
Maybe 7-8 months ago, my mother left the cage door open,and pumpkinhead flew away.
Everytime I look up in the sky, I hope that he's OK, but i know in my heart, that he isn't.
I miss that little bird so much, and it was amazing how such a tiny little creature brought so much joy into my life.
/end rant.
My first bird was a small blue Budgie (Parakeet) of whom my sister named,'Big Blue'
I then dove into the world of birds and when I was 13, I bred my first pair of cockateils.
This eventually turned into the breeding, weening, and raising of a variety of birds. congo African Greys, Red Wing Macaws, Blue and Gold Macaws, Many variants of Soncures, Sulfur Crested Cockatoos, Umbrella Cockatoos, Love Birds, and many other types of the larger exotics.
Of all of these, my favorite was a small, crippled conure. He was a breed of Sun Conure, and some other that I wasn't aware of. When he was a baby, he was perched into the doorway of the cage, and the door fell shut, breaking his feet and lower legs. After heling,he had a limp and was severely 'pigeon toed'. I named his pumpkinhead for a very obvious reason, and for a very long time, he was my 'best friend', so to speak.
He'd fall alseep on my knee or thigh while I'd type at the computer, or stealth upto my ear while perched atop my shoulder, and give me a 'love yew, retty bird'. He'd take showers with me and frolic under the mist of a spray bottle. His eyes would pin when i talked to him, he'd grind his bill when we'd play together. He'd jump into bowls of (unbuttered, unsalted) popcorm that I'd made to watch a movie wiht, and play in them. It wasn't just food, it was play time. He was adorable.
His cage was that of an older style, like a tower. It had a slanted roof much like /\ And when I'd walk ito the room, he'd slide down to the side, and wait for me to pick him up.
He was my little pumpkinhead.
Flash foreward to now, I'm nearly nineteen years old, and I havent seen him since I was 16.
As stated in another thread regarding Divorce, I said that My mother took the birds,and I moved in with my father. Because of the California Laws,and NewCastle's disease, I couldn't bring any of my birds across the state border.
I'd call every week to talk to my mother, only to ask how my birds were doing, and every week she'd tell me things were fine.
A Few weeks ago, I talked with my sister, of whom i dont get along with very well. I asked her about pumpkinhead, and all i got was a ' What? Didn't mom tell you?'
Maybe 7-8 months ago, my mother left the cage door open,and pumpkinhead flew away.
Everytime I look up in the sky, I hope that he's OK, but i know in my heart, that he isn't.
I miss that little bird so much, and it was amazing how such a tiny little creature brought so much joy into my life.
/end rant.

SHE JUST LEFT THE CAGE OPEN?!

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