As a rule Pavarotti loved food. So generally he loved where it was coming from, in his opinion Kurt was the best owner he'd had in a long time. Pavarotti the canary had been passed down through many generations of Warblers. He heard the council saying how he was a tradition. As a result he'd seen a lot of humans during his life and was confused by their bizarre behaviour. However none of his previous owners had been as attentive to his needs as Kurt was. Kurt refilled Pavarotti's bowl every day on the dot, sang to him (the most tuneful of all his owners too) and never neglected him. He was always there for Pavarotti unlike many of the other boys who'd been distracted from their duties simply by a long haired human with a pretty face. With Kurt, he'd never had that problem.

Kurt walked into his bedroom and dived onto the bed. Pavarotti frowned; his owner was making a strange muffled noise. He wondered how the boy could breathe with his face in the pillow like that. After a few minutes of this Pavarotti was bored so he started to sing. The notes swelled out of his lungs into a pleasant chirrup. It was a song he'd heard his master singing earlier and admittedly it was rather catchy. Kurt looked up from the bed and gave the bird a watery smile. His eyes were red and the shiny tear tracks on his face gave his crying away. Pavarotti wished that the human could understand him as he twittered away in concern. Although previous owners had been more neglectful they'd been happier than this one. Maybe it was because of the prettier human often by their side?

Kurt walked over to the desk Pavarotti's cage was perched on and reached into the drawer below. He brought up a pack of seeds which he then began to spill into the bird's bowl.

"You always know what to say." he smiled before sitting down next to the cage. As he watched the canary peck at the food he started to talk. "Sorry about that. It's the anniversary of my mum's death tomorrow and I like to let it out the night before so I can be strong for dad." As he explained more tears began to trickle down his cheeks. From Pavarotti's view it looked like a miniature waterfall. Kurt sobbed a bit before continuing. "Now I've got Carole but I still miss her so much!" Pavarotti cocked his head sympathetically. Kurt half sobbed half laughed. "It's funny that I can only unwind to a bird." Pavarotti seemed to agree with him as he let out a sound that could be called laughter. Kurt started to search the desk drawers and finally he found what he was looking for. He held up a yellow piece of fabric, Pavarotti noted rather proudly that it matched his feathers. Kurt fumbled around the bedroom once more and this time returned with a needle. "This is going to be for you." he announced. "It's a 'thanks for listening' present." Pavarotti watched as Kurt sewed throughout the night but eventually the canary fell asleep.

By the time Pavarotti awoke it was the next day and a strange yellow fabric surrounded the bars of his cage. At first he was a little worried, but that soon lessened as he realised that he felt a lot warmer than he had been feeling the previous few weeks. He recognised it to be the same material Kurt had been fiddling with the other night.

"How did you manage to find a burberry-esque canary cover?" said a voice, muffled by the cover.

Pavarotti recognised this voice, it was the Blaine Kurt talked about so often.

"Canaries don't like cold weather," The bird felt himself being lifted up and the cover was taken off. "especially Pavarotti."

Pavarotti watched Blaine's face intently and noted how the boy's eyes were examining his owner curiously.

"Kurt you look exhausted."

"Oh I didn't really get much sleep last night, I was busy making this." Kurt explained.

"You spent the entire night making that?" asked Blaine. Pavarotti looked up at his owner who nodded. Kurt had large bags under his eyes, that were normally never allowed to develop due to his beauty standards. "Are you okay?"

"I care about a canary, is that so wrong?" Kurt replied innocently.

"So there's nothing bothering you?" Blaine questioned again.

"Asides from the fact that Pavarotti is cold - no."

Blaine did not look convinced, but Kurt quickly changed the subject to regionals before he could probe any further.

Pavarotti felt strange. He wasn't hungry, which was extremely unusual for him and his left eye wouldn't stop twitching. It felt quite uncomfortable; in fact Pavarotti soon found that he couldn't see anything through the eye. He felt quite disorientated. Then he realised he could no longer hold onto his perch. With a loud thump the canary fell to the bottom of the cage and everything went black.

Kurt burst into the Warbler's meeting room in tears.

"Kurt what's wrong?" asked Blaine alarmed by his distraught expression.

"It's Pavarotti. Pavarotti is dead. I suspect a stroke."

"God I'm really sorry."

"I know it's really stupid to be upset about a bird but he-he inspired me, with his optimism and his love of song. He was my friend. Now I know that today we need to practise do-whopping behind Blaine as he sings every solo in the medley of Pink songs but I'd like to sing a song for Pavarotti today."

And down from heaven above Pavarotti smiled as his young owner as he sang. The bird wasn't stupid; he'd been around humans for long enough to know what the look Blaine was giving Kurt meant. Soon his master would be happy, he just needed to wait a little longer.

The End