Birdie

This is my pet Cockatiel. KC which stands for kisses and cuddles, since he is so affectionate. We do all sorts of things together, like sing, whistle, dance and share meals. He is way more fun than I thought a bird could possibly be. I know it is a boy bird 'cause he hates the vacuum and can't stand to do dishes.



KC: Stay tuned for how she came to purchase me...

You need something alive in the house

During my early working career I dreamed of having a dog. There is something about animal love that is different than people love. Remembering the dog I had as a child brought back so many happy memories, the desire to have one again just wouldn’t go away. Each time the urge came over me I was able to put it off by reasoning why “now” was not the right time.

If you really love the dog, how can you think of leaving it alone for so many hours everyday when you work? Are you sure you want to destroy your nice furnishings? Who will watch him when you travel on business and vacations? You are going to walk it everyday in the rain and snow? Is it fair to the animal? Is it fair to you? What would your husband say about it? All these questions I easily answered in the negative and could comfortably put off any further decisions on dogs until retirement was a real possibility.

Time passed and I became a widow. I saw my life through a shattered prism. I learned the meaning of grief and the soul searching that is required curriculum. I discovered the differences between alone and lonely, two very different things. I questioned my very existence and whether it should continue or not. I went to therapy.

Therapy is interesting. You get to share your innermost pain, happiness and fear. When you think you have established some kind of relationship with the therapist, they ask you a question that is so off the wall, that you wonder where it came from. I had just gone through, in gory detail, the events leading to my husband’s death. I talked about how I was holding up…I talked about how I wasn’t holding up. Yes, I love my job. It keeps me sane. Yes my friends are very supportive. Yes I go out and do things like shop, eat, visit with friends and see a movie.

What’s that? Who lives with me? No one.

Pets? No, I don’t have any.

That began a lengthy discussion about how I needed something alive in the house. The first suggestion was a dog. I had all the answers for that argument; I went through it so many times before. But she wouldn’t let up. She said, “What about a cat?” No I don’t want my sofa ripped to shreds. She said, “What about a fish?” The conversation in my mind was now bordering on pathetic. How could I get close to a fish, I wondered? I simply said no, I don’t think so. I suggested that we talk about some of the real problems that I was going through.

So, we talked some about widowhood. Then in the middle of the discussion, she said, “You should get yourself a cockatiel.” I said, “I don’t think so” and tried to get on with the conversation. Couldn’t she see I needed to talk about this other stuff? What is it with therapists anyway? Finally, back to the previous discussion, I thought I was making progress. The therapist was asking relevant questions and we were moving through the topic. As the conversation was coming to an end, the idea of a cockatiel began to appeal to me. I said, “A cockatiel, huh?” The therapist responded with a dry, matter-of-fact “Yes, they are very good companions and don’t require much attention.” Humm.

The hour was almost up and I found I couldn’t get the thought out of my mind. As we said our goodbyes, I said I would think about it. “Yes, think about it indeed. Kazimirs on Anderson is a great little pet shop, go there and ask about Cockatiels,” she said.

I went to several stores looking for Cockatiels and had discussions about them with people in each shop. I learned a lot about these birds and became more comfortable with the idea of having one, but, of course, it would have to pass my standard pet argument list that I used so many times to put off getting a dog. Mentally running through the list, I ticked off each one and found that I ended up with a definite maybe on getting the bird. I began to get excited about it.

I returned to Kazimirs and put the plan of acquisition into place. They had a breeder that lived close by and would let me know when the next brood would be ready to leave the nest. A colleague told me to be sure to get one that likes me, otherwise I could be asking for big trouble. I wasn’t sure how I would do that, but the warning stuck in my brain.

The weeks seemed like forever and finally the call came that four birds were ready to be sold. They would be available at the end of the week. I went to the store that day to get all the paraphernalia that would be needed: the cage, food, toys, millet sprays, and a variety of other things. In the three days it took me to fit the trip into my schedule to pick mine out; two had already been taken. Panic started to take over in my mind. Only two birds left and one of them has to like me.

I went directly to the store after work and began the arduous task, still not knowing how I was going to figure out if the bird liked me or not. I saw them instantly, both gorgeous. “How am I ever going to pick which one is for me?” I wondered. The owner showed me the birds and said, “Which one do you want?” The time had come…which one? I had no clue but had faith that somehow there would be a sign and I would know. So I took my time, I looked at each of them and tried to decide. I could not. They were both perfect. Just when I was about to say either would do, the one in the back made a loud screech. The rest was easy. I took the other one.

She was right you know. The therapist, I mean. I did need something alive in the house. The bird has really made a difference in my life. There is most definitely something about animal love. Yes, the bird likes me and we have a great relationship. Another baby step in this forlorn journey of widowhood. It’s just the two of us making our way in this our new life together. Thank you Kazimirs.



Copyright 2002
E Rossopoulos