The Bird That Wouldn't Fly

This poem by Edgar Allan Poe came to mind when Ate Vi showed us the yellow bird over our chamber door (well, back door actually):

While I nodded, nearly napping,
suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping,
rapping at my chamber door.

The bird isn’t a raven, though. It’s a lovebird (scientific name, Agapornis).

We shooed it away so it could freely fly but it wouldn’t move. We had to put it in a cage (empty since I wrote a book on flighted pets) so we could feed it properly. Though we kept the cage door open, it seemed to chirp, “No, I am staying.”

Tony drove to the nearest pet shop and bought some seeds. Our collective worry was that it might die of loneliness without a partner (a myth, I just found out!). But three weeks passed by and it was as alive as ever. Tony didn’t believe in myths so he drove to the pet shop again and bought it a spouse.

With a pair of lovebirds in our hands, we are kept busy feeding and playing with them. They must like the cage so much they are still there, two months now. Now I can’t boast of having flighted pets.

Lovebirds are escape artists but these two are made from a different stock. They are happy where they are. And we are too.

Every morning as they chirp, they remind me of all the beautiful birds up the sky made especially for us by the generous Giver of grace.

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