The stenches...Burning paper...Chemicals...Death. It churned my stomach. The dark smoke wafting between the bars. Suffocating. My lungs burning. Feathers dusted with soot. The alcohol...Bitter...Overwhelming. Crud building up in my cage. The occasional profanity cast in my general direction as they stumbled through the entry into their armchair...The clinking of glass...The loud, vulgar slurping.
That was not even the worst home I ever endured. It was the most recent.
There were houses with children poking me. Pulling at my immaculate feather coat. Shouting. Squealing like cut pigs. The fat house cat smirking and swiping at me between the bars. The mildew filaments taking root in my seed bowl. The children seldom refreshing my water, seed or newspaper.
The old woman who banged on my cage while wailing about her abusive exes. Threatening to throw me out of the fifth-floor window because life was unfair, and I was a dumb bird. Her loud dogs. One who rode in her handbag when it wasn't causing noise complaints. The other slept beneath my cage- dying from old age. Clumps of its fur stuck to the carpet. I spent a few weeks there before she was arrested and evicted. I was left -in the rain- on the curb with her stolen furniture and a mountain of garbage bags. I thought I was going to be eaten by homeless people, rats, stray cats and/or dogs.
I was at the avian rescue shelter for months. Physically recovering. Mentally shattered from my circumnavigations of cities in Georgia. It felt like I was trapped in a storm. I lost all hope. The staff were nice. Between than most of the homes I spent years jumping between. The days all blurred together. Hours and months. Until one day, a middle-aged man arrived. At last! A ray of sunshine.
He introduced himself as Jack. He explained that he was looking for a small to medium sized bird for his wife Ashley. He explained how they already had two birds. My heart lifted with every word.
"Pick me!" I squawked like my life depended on it; beating my wings. "I am what you're looking for!"
"Settle down Lucy." The caregiver assigned to me today giggled. "What's gotten into you today? I was told you were a silent bird." She threw a blanket over my cage. She could not get too rough due to my previous abuse. "What's the matter? Can you hear that old man outside? Does he scare you?"
My heart pounded as I heard footsteps.
"What's the matter?" The other carer asked.
"Lucy's acting weird today."
"Lucy IS a weird bird."
"Not like this."
I grew impatient with their banter.
"Lucy?" A male voice asked.
"A Goffin's Cockatoo. Also known as a Blushing Cockatoo. Are you sure you want a bird like her? She's rare. We don't know how she'll treat Bo and Jake."
"Or be treated by them."
"They are well behaved." He tried to assure them.
The light was blinding. My enclosure teetering as the blanket was lifted, balled up and discarded.
Everything happened at a million miles an hour. Money exchanged hands. I was out of here!
It was a long drive out of the city into the countryside. Still in Georgia, according to the road signs. I didn't know the world was so big. I had only ever been in the middle of the city. From the moment he lifted the carrier cage (provided by the shelter) from the passenger seat of the small hatchback it was like I had died and gone to heaven. This couple loved birds. There were birds prints on everything. Art decorated the walls from small children (probably family) and professional artists.
Unlike most birds, I wasn't interested in taking out my anger on my new house or owners. There were too many new, strange scents, smells and sights. I was accustomed to smaller, dirtier cages.
"Sorry Lucy. You must be excited to get out of there." The middle-aged man said softly, poking his fingers through the bars to stroke my head. "You'll be able to roam this place when you're used to it. Vet's orders."
Jack might have said Lucy was a gift for his wife, but he took just as much pride in me as his wife cooed when she arrived home to see me.
"Jack!"
He grinned at his wife.
"Do you like her Ashley? I think Jake and Bo will like this one."
Again, with these two names?
I shrugged, preening my fresh, wing feathers. I didn't care.
At least until there was a flash of baseball sized colour from the door the woman entered through.
The couple laughed as the rainbow blur landed on top of my cage, squeaking like a mouse on double speed.
"Lucy, this is Jake. Jake, this is Lucy." Jack chuckled, shooing the peach faced lovebird off with his hand. "Jake. Take it easy on her. The ladies at the shelter said she's been through a lot. I don't want you giving her the wrong impression."
"Aww! He just wants to make friends."
"There's a reason I locked the lil' rascal in the kitchen."
Now it made sense. Most of the bird paraphernalia I'd seen was of Love Birds and African Greys.
I'd paid some attention to the posters on the walls of the shelter.
So that's Jake? Where's Bo?
I noticed the larger bird perched on the back of the sofa. He could not have been much older than me, but he was as wise as my new owners. Perhaps more. He was self-disciplined. Watching me in a contemplative silence. If we had voices like humans, Bo's would have been intimidating. Not like the drunken smoker, but more like a Kung-Fu master from one of the many movies that played on the television. The woman tickled the African Grey under his chin. Which made Bo give the equivalent of an avian smile. Eyes closed. Head rolled back. Tail wagging. Jake continued to flutter around until Jack caught him. Now that he had attention, the mischievous Love Bird crawled up to the old man's shoulder.
What did they put in HIS seed?
I had seen dogs and human children with less energy to spend.
"Don't mind our baby Bobo. He'll warm up to you." The woman smiled at me through her baby talk.
I'm going to like it here. I can tell.