For the Birdies

I didn't have much else to do after watching an episode of It's all Relative about how love is more important than how much you make in a year. I spent that time with the birds.

See, around Christmas week, the bird that gave birth to Nelly gave birth to two other little chicks. One on the 23rd, and one on Christmas. The bigger of the two has a set of pipes on him that scare me. Do you remember what the baby raptor sounded like from Jurassic Park after it hatched? Yeah, that's the sound it makes whenever it is hungry or needs attention. And it's loud too. Smaller of the two for some reason isn't growing as fast as it should. Sure, it is about three days younger, but you would think there wouldn't be that big of a difference.

During my time with them, something happened that I didn't expect.

The older one actually calmed down for more than half an hour after I finally stopped petting it. I continued to pet it whenever I heard the faint beginnings of its screech. Other than that, it was rather happy and content just having me around.

The younger one had trouble opening his right eye now for a few days. My dad was getting worried. Not only is this one small for his age, even if it has only been a few weeks, but the last thing he wants is a blind bird. After I was done calming down the older one, I went to check on the younger one. It mistook my finger for the syringe that we use to feed them. While it was biting me, I saw that his right eye was starting to open a bit. That's when I saw the problem. Apparently, there was some eye crust, possibly dried baby bird food formula, over it's eye. It was a small amount, but in the development stages, a small amount can cause major damage.

As proud as I am of this happening, seeing how most animals hate me, I don't want to get too attached to them. I don't know a single thing about birds, and I know damn well that I do not have the level of responsibility to take care of a pet. Hell, I don't even have the level of responsibility to get a "normal" job!