Posted July 10, 2016 by Kerry McFall
The simplicity of caring for a caged bird has a definite appeal in recent days. There are no “breaking news” posts in the bottom of the cage, just tidy little poops and empty seed hulls on the plain white paper. The biggest event in the 8 days we’ve been here as “pet sitters” was when one of the perches somehow got dislodged and it fell across the other perch. No one was injured, although some rather strong “language” was heard from Mojo.
Every day I clean and refill his dishes, replace the papers, and sit and talk quietly to him. It’s a bit like babysitting an infant, he even seems to enjoy my singing! I’ve been bringing my morning coffee into his room, which has the best view in the house. Together we watch the steam rising from the oil refinery across the bay, or the fog beasts roll over the hills and into the water. In the evening, the sun flashes silver off the waves, and I enjoy my wine while Mojo crunches his seeds companionably. Simple pleasures.
Sometimes I wish he could fly out the window to join the purple finch who sits on the neighbor’s lemon tree, but Mojo is not mine to set free. So I spend these quiet times with him, admiring the tiny miracles of the brilliant lime green feathers on his head, and marvel at the perfection of wing construction. And I wish more people in this troubled world could do the same. Escapism? Definitely.