Bobby went down to the kitchen. He was on bird duty this morning, so he had to get Beau up and fed before heading off to class. He whistled a little as he walked into the den where Beau spent the night in his cage.

He heard flock coming. It was the wake-up flock! He chirped a question. Was the flock here to get him up?

A quiet chirp met his ears and he smiled. "Hi, Beau! Rise and shine!" He took the two towels off the bird's cage. Beau was on the highest perch. His yellow face and orange cheek patches gleamed in the light. He began to sing.

It was morning, morning, morning! Time to call to flock, to tell other birds that this was his territory, and to eat after a long night. He sang, holding on tight to his perch as his home was moved. This was routine. It soothed him.

"What are you so happy about there, birdie?" 'Breakfast, Bobby.' He had found a fake voice for the bird. He used it to have "conversations" with the animal. It worked for him.

He got the bird's dishes out and began washing them. "You know, you're lucky, bird. Everyone thinks well of you. No one forgets about you." His voice turned bitter. "You're cute and sweet. You have no problems making friends. Do you?" He filled the water dish and put it into Beau's cage.

Flock was making noises. It was good. He was thirsty. He went down to his dish and took a few sips of water.

He dried the bird's food dish, still talking. "And of course, female birds would probably think you're handsome. Maybe I just need to change my color scheme. Then someone might think I was worth something."

He was not empathic. He did not understand humans unless they talked to him in whistles. But somehow, he felt a need to connect with this flock. He gave the flock whistle and asked for Out.

Beau leaped onto the door and wolf-whistled, looking at him pleadingly, then whistled imperiously at him. "Yeah. You think I'm worth something. I'm worth food." He sighed and opened the door. The bird walked out onto it and up his arm, resting on his shoulder as he got the bird's food ready.

"Thing is, bird, everyone else I came in with has had someone. You know? Jean has Scott. Warren had Candy. And Betsy, too...unfair, that was. Hank had Trish, till she turned out to be a psycho hose beast. But no one has loved me. I'd do anything to even have a long-term psycho girlfriend who tried to feed me to a walrus or something!"

There was food. He went down to grab some, then took it back up to the place near the flock's mouth. He liked this flock.

He sighed. "Oh, well. Gotta keep going, don't I?" 'Stop pitying yourself and put me back!'

He put the food dish back into Beau's cage and held out his hand to the bird. Beau backed away from his hand, running around behind his neck.

He was staying with the flock. The nasty stick-things were NOT going to stop him.

He created a minor ice slide on his collar. Beau backed away from it and he got the bird on his hand again, then stuck him in his cage and closed the door, fastening it tight. "Bye, bird. Thanks for listening to my oh so sad story," he said in an awful British accent. "Till next time, when we hear Miss Piggy say, 'Oh, Bobby, kiss me you fool!'"

Kitty slipped into the kitchen as Bobby left, earning a scream from Beau.

Flock was leaving! Flock might get lost! Don't leave, flock!