Okay…so it is important (and only fair) that I start this post out by saying that I have never been very fond of those feathery, winged creatures that beep and cheap in the trees all day long. My dislike of birds was born when I was about fourteen years old and an obnoxious mockingbird decided to use the awning in my backyard as its podium every night – all night long – for the rest of the time that I lived there (until I turned 17 and moved out).
The next experience that tainted my idea of birds was the “Great Horned Owl’s” return to the city trees – something that I had apparently missed the memo about prior to his re-appearance; and, he chose to nest and perch in the ancient pine next to my window. He was a hooter and did his hooting nightly for almost an entire year. More notably in this ‘negative bird experience’ however, were the tons and tons of reporters, wildlife preservationists, activists, and all kinds of other random people who felt it necessary to constantly visit the Great Horned Owl after his return – there was literally a small crowd that remained permanently assembled with cameras flashing and excited children – at all times until he departed (on his own, I had NOTHING to do with him relocating, I swear…).
I have already written in the past about how I serendipitously became a “finch breeder” in more recent years (see previous bird post here); and, I will say that despite my longtime dislike of the little, useless shits, I have been forced to accept a natural connection that is undoubtedly there between me and birds. Since I have been raising various breeds of finches, I have found that I am:
1. Naturally calmed by dealing with them;
2. Able to understand their needs and preferences;
3. Able to differentiate them with ease;
4. Able to gain the trust of even the most shy and afraid.
Regardless of the relationship I share with my own clutches of domesticated finches though, I was still completely shocked the other evening while I was outside smoking – when a tiny, but bold zebra finch walked right up to me and hopped onto my foot. I was stupefied by his audacity – as small as he is. To make a long story short – I was adopted by another bird at random two days ago, and the little fucker has stolen my heart already. He has the personality of a Tiger…and I have been doing all I can think of to figure out if somebody is missing him like I’d be if he disappeared.
If you are nearby, are missing an adorable zebra finch, and, reading this:
He’s safe and sound – email me.