With a heavy heart, we said goodbye to our dear little Mr. Phoebe this weekend. Her death was as shocking as the depth of the devastation we felt. She is a part of our little family and now the house feels emptier in the quiet she leaves behind.
I never expected nor intended to share a home with a bird. I regarded them as quirky, fickle, high maintenance pets. Honestly, while I like dogs and wished I could at least pet a cat, I never considered my life lacking if it were pet less. Then, I became the mother of a child whose life revolves around animals and who still doesn’t believe in the concept of “too many animals.” He came with a menagerie of pets, which a few years ago, included a bird, a small tiny baby cockatiel named Phoebe.
She didn’t like me at first. I scared her as I wasn’t among the first of our family she met. Introduced to her a week later, she found me a nuisance who woke her from a deep sleep when I returned home from a late flight. My laughter seemed to warm her to me. She found the noise interesting and tried to mimic it. Then we tried to teach her songs, whistling various tunes trying to discern which ones she liked. Through laughter and music, we bonded, two different individuals, different species, both wild at heart finding commonality and understanding. I learned how to listen, how to understand her, how to be with her.
She was wild. Unlike our domesticated dogs, Phoebe was wild. She was separate from us, yet seemed to enjoy playing with us. She was a decent peek a boo player. She had a unique song for each of us, including our dog, Clyde. While we may have been a flock, we all knew she was wild with her own life to live. She wanted affection when she wanted it and didn’t when she didn’t. She, we discovered when her plumage came in, was also a he, so we navigated together and adjusted her moniker to “Mr. Phoebe.” Our love for her grew as we learned how to share each day together in our respective enclosures, hers within ours. We love her for who she is, not what we wanted her to be. Her unique personality honestly filled my days with joy.
I still marvel a bit at how we ended up sharing a home with a bird. Our son never questioned being able to provide a home for her, even while he bounced from dorm to apartment to home to apartment through his college years. He didn’t know how his roommates would react to her loud shrieks, to her off key singing, to her mashing up of tunes. Without worrying about the future, he leapt. He could fly so freely ahead because we were his and Phoebe’s safety net. They would always have a home. They would always have our love. They would always have our support. Because of this safety net, we in turn got a bird who brightened our days with her joy, her songs, her kisses, her demands for affection, her light. Phoebe’s existence challenges me to think about how much brighter and joyful my world could be if a safety net grew and extended out further into the world. How many lives are dimmed because there isn’t a net to catch them if they stumble when they leap? My life dimmed a bit this weekend when she left us. My hope is if I keep these lessons close to my heart, maybe some of the joy she brought will be found again.
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