I Did It Again: Confessions of a Bird Rescuer

Was that the phone, I wondered peering out of my finch room? Amid the myriad of beeps and trills, I wondered if I had really heard the telephone. Then I heard it again - the phone. I hurried into the next room and picked up the handset, anticipating AT&T on the other line. Thankfully, it was Nancy, a member of our local bird club. First she asked if I wanted her baby societies, and while I was tempted (as they were crested babies), I knew I couldn't. We got to talking, mostly about our birds, with Braynon providing appropriate content in the background. Then, she said those magic words, "needs to find a good home."

My ears pricked. We were talking about parrotlets, a picked female, to be exact, who needed a good home and some TLC. I could not resist.

I'm a bird rescuer at heart. Whenever I hear of a creature that needs a good home, I'm there, ready, willing, and able to provide TLC. There can be no greater crime than not to provide any creature the love and care it deserves. So, I'm a bird rescuer.

When I was married, my love of birds oftentimes came between my husband and me. As a single person, I know one of the first qualities I'm going to look for in a potential partner is "loves animals." I have a heart as big as the world, and there is plenty of room for all.

I suspect those of us who rescue birds are a rare breed. After all, who else would trudge through December sleet to rescue finches while calling off a date or other engagement due to the weather? Our every waking moment might be consumed by our love of these creatures, while other people pursue golfing or tennis.

While most people will be spending time with their families this weekend, I will be traveling across the state to pick up a parrotlet and possibly its friend, who need a little tender loving care.

(My series on record keeping will resume next week. I just had to share.)

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