When i was little. My first bird was a keet. I let the bird sit on my shoulder all day, while i was at school we would leave the radio on, but when i came home i went to Mr. salty. He sat with me, he learned to play tricks. His favorite things to do was play with cards by chewing and tossing them off the table and water. HE LOVED water, no problem to me either. I remember days after days of sitting at the kitchen table with him and playing/homeworking what ever needed to be done. His favorite snack by far was peas, and it was a hoot to see him eat! I was able to trim his nails, wings and we had a great bond. I am forever going to work on getting that bond with Puddles
the good years lasted only about 4. My [censored] of a mother put MY keet out of my reach, and she would yell at me if i climbed on a chair to get to my little bird. She bought a "pretty" bird hanger. I hated it, it swung widly and Mr Salty was so high! i was 9-10 at the time, and "mother knows best" the responsibilty led to my father, well because my mother could care less about Mr. Salty. I remember talking to my daddy about it, and he told me i cannot let my bird out any more. That the door frame had been nibbled on, and it was best to keep him in his cage. I can let him out if he hug out on the table with me.
Well when my mother was away, the bird will play
Sadly though this was only 15 minutes before her work ended. I noticed that my little bird got smaller, and eventually did not want to play with me anymore. He started to run from my hand, and that hurt. A few days later my bird passed away. I came home from school sick and climbed up on a chair, to see my blue beauty passed away.
I took all his toys the remainder of his food and placed it in a box. I had my father burry my love by my tree swing in the back yard. We placed his toys with him and sprinkled his food/snacks in there. I bult a cross from his perches and planted flowers. The mound of dirt has long since sunk and went back to normal, but everytime i look out my window/play on swing/ sit outside i see the spot where my bird is. It hurt to see him die, but it hurt worse to know that my bird probably died from a broken heart. He wouldent eat, i couldent have him out 6 hours a day as i used too. He went from a thiving bird that couldent get enough of me, to a terrified creature...in a matter of under a month. Maybe even a week or two if i can remember clearly. Its only one of the many things i will never forgive my mother for.