I sat down, a sigh escaping my lips. It's only been 4 hours since my baby bird, Hoothoot, passed. I stood up, walked downstairs and after asking my dad where his body had been put, went outside to retrieve him so he could be buried in the morning. As I wrapped him up in a paper towel, a memory came flooding back…
*chirp* *chirp*
Hoothoot squirmed inside the paper towel I had him wrapped up in. "Hold still, little one!" I laughed, placing the roll inside the cage and unraveling it, revealing a baby sparrow chirping on top of a paper plate, now covered by a paper towel. "There," I said, "now your nest is easy to clean. Come on out!" I lifted the cage door, letting him fly to my shoulder…
I came back to reality, sighing again, longing for the roll in my hand to squirm with life and spirit again, but I was no fool; I knew not to hope for something I knew was impossible. I placed the lifeless roll into Hoothoot's cage, preparing to bury him in the morning. Staring at the cage again, I felt another memory arise…
*chirp*
"I know you're hungry, little one," I said as I opened a can of cat food, the only thing he would eat, "be patient. I'm coming with food." I began to let him eat the food I scooped onto my finger, his beak biting me, sending me back to reality…
I stood up from my bed and walked outside to the back porch and sat down, where a moonless sky greeted me.
"Hey, Luna," I said to the skies, "you're having a bad day, too?" Talking to the moon probably wasn't healthy, but it was a habit of mine when I was troubled. "… My bird died. I know it sounds kinda petty, but he meant so much to me… He was a friend."
"I may not have had him for very long, only receiving him from my mom's friend about a week ago, what with them having taken care of him after he fell out of the nest and broke his leg. Even so, I loved him. I loved him as a friend, and I loved him as a child. As annoyingly persistent as he was when he was hungry, which was always, I was happy to have him, to be around him, and happy to see him grow, from standing on bars with one foot to almost flying, I was proud as his father. And now… Now he's gone."
"I was sad, of course. Devastated, something an emotionally conservative person like me doesn't often feel. Of course, I was angry, too. Angry at the dog, for killing him. Angry at my mom, for leaving the cage top off. But in the end? In the end, I couldn't stay mad at any of them. I could only stay mad at myself for knowing the cage's top was open and doing nothing about it. In the end, I'm not filled with sadness, or anger. Just a void, no emotion at all. And secretly, in the end, I think that's what hurts the most of all."
