The Bird That Came home

Somethings cannot be explained. 
Some occurrences they seem to have a purpose, just no reason. 
Like the bird that came home for a day, in our very favourite shade of yellow. 

As we walked in to our living room groggily one morning, it sat there comfortably, like it knew us forever, like it was home. My husband took it into his palm, like they were buddies. It didn’t even jump at the loud voice of my older fellow. It didn’t even turn to peck my little one as he craved to grab it, coming at it with all five of his teeny fingers. 

It was our guest for one day…letting me run my fingers through its soft feathers every now and then. Refusing to eat anything my little one offered it — little morsels of bread, oats but welcoming of any coddling we gave it, sipping some water every now and then. 

By the end of the day, it was time for it to go. We wondered what we had done wrong, if we had done anything to make it worse, even googled if we could revive it. But it was ready to leave and we knew we had to say goodbye. 

Pets — they teach you love, they teach you life. And when they leave, they break your heart and take a part of you with them. I have lost so many bits of me, I was afraid to go through another cycle. My kids therefore have not had the privilege of raising a pet. They have not had the opportunity to roll with a dog, make a pillow of them or have their faces soaked in spit…I have failed to provide them the loyalty and affection that only your pet brings you. 

But for a day we had a guest, who became a part of us. 
A little bundle of yellow, a little Tweety, that made its way to my home, to my children before it could go away forever. 

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