Flock Talk eZine, Issue 135

Welcome to Robirda's Companion Bird eZine
Flock Talk!
For breeder or pet bird owners who care.

Table of Contents

Website News; Site navigation update, special year-end issue.
Sponsor's Space: Christmas Sale on select wrought iron cages!
Feature Story: A Night of Lights & Wonder (a Midwinter tale)
Canary Song CD: "Let Robirda's canaries help yours to sing more!
Handy Links: Check here for links to major areas on our site.
For You & Your Birds: We couldn't do any of this without you!
Subscribe & Unsubscribe information for Flock Talk.

We have a special year-end story for you this issue - we hope you enjoy it as much as we do! We'd also like to thank everybody who commented on the new Articles Archive area, we greatly appreciate your feedback, thanks so much for your insight!

We hope you will enjoy our latest website upgrade - a new set of navigation links at the top of each webpage. Hover your mouse over any of the areas, and you will get a drop-down listing of all links in that catagory, including links to sub-catagories.

See them in action at www.robirda.com. Happy surfing! grin

Feature Story

Table of Contents

Many cultures around the world celebrate midwinter, in one fashion or another. Often these traditions include telling stories of mystery and magic, and at Flock Talk we've adopted this tradition for our own. This is our fifth midwinter tale, and it seems especially appropriate that this year's story is a tale of the fulfillment of faith, and the rebirth of hope.

A Night of Lights and Wonder

by R C McDonald
www.robirda.com
Copyright © Dec 2005

There was a scrabbling noise over by the fireplace, and Pip jumped, peering suspiciously. Sure enough, there was a mouse on the coffee table, foraging among the left-over wine cups and cigarette butts for scraps from what had originally been a large platter of cheese and crackers.

"Hey!" shrieked Pip, "Hey, get outta here, go away, GWAN!"

The mouse ignored him, as they usually did, continuing to munch on a large piece of cracker he'd found. Pip swallowed, and tried not to think how much he'd like a piece of that cracker himself.

It had been several days since Barry had checked his seed cup, and all he'd been able to find this morning was chaff. He'd thought drinking a little water might help, but that was mostly gone, too - and what was left was so slimey he didn't want to try it. Luckily, one of the guests had given him a piece of lettuce last night, or he might have had to drink it anyways.

His stomach was growling more loudly by the minute, and he was getting more and more miserable. It had been daylight for awhile now, and he'd been hoping that Barry or one of the guests who'd stayed over would get up soon and check on him, but the party last night had gone fairly late, and everybody was still asleep.

That mouse was making him hungrier than he already was! He swallowed again, trying not to think of bowls of fresh water, and heaps of good clean seed, surrounded by juicy greens...

"Oh stop it Pip, you're only making yourself feel worse!" he muttered sternly to himself, then shouted at the mouse again.

"Hey you nasty little scrounger, you're not wanted here, get out of my house!" The mouse lifted his head and peered at him, but continued to ignore him - and continued to munch.

"Hey, help, somebody! There's a mouse out here making a mess of everything!" Pip shrieked at the top of his lungs, and finally heard the sound of footsteps. Somebody had heard him, and was coming to see what the problem was!

He hoped they would have the sense to check his seed and water cups, and clung to the side of his cage, calling. "I'm so glad you're up, please get me something to eat and drink!" he called, as loudly as he could.

The steps got louder, and Barry stumbled into the room. The mouse scuttled off the coffee-table in a flurry of crumbs and cigarette ashes, but Barry ignored it, and backhanded Pip's cage, slamming it into the wall.

"Stop all that blasted racket, you damned feathered rat!" he bellowed, and stomped back out of the livingroom, leaving Pip's cage to crash to the floor. Pip clung desperately as the cage tilted then fell. He felt as if his nerve endings were going to leap out through his feathers - he could've been crushed, when Barry had slammed his cage! - but when the dust finally settled he still seemed to be in one piece, so he must be alright.

He stretched out each wing, then convinced that everything was still attached and working properly, was just starting to look around when he heard footsteps again. Barry was back.

He had poured himself a cup of wine, and stumbled past Pip's cage, giving it a kick in passing. "Damn loud-mouthed noisy bloody bird, serve you right to stay down there for awhile, can't you learn to shut up until I get rid of this headache?" he growled, then flopped on the couch to gulp his wine.

The cage rolled several times, before coming to a stop on the fireplace hearth. Pip shook his head, trying to clear it, and saw that the door to his cage had popped open! That was all the hint he needed - he wasn't going to wait around in his cage for it to be kicked again!

He looked over at Barry, who was staring grumpily through the window, then quietly crept out and scuttled under the coffee table, where he wouldn't be spotted quite so easily.

Once there, he sat down to groom the dust and chaff off his feathers and think about the future. What was he going to do now? Ever since Mary had left, Barry had been getting worse and worse about taking care of him. It had always been Mary who cared for him, but when she left, Barry had refused to allow her to take him along.

But it wasn't as if Barry actually cared about Pip! He didn't bother to check the seed and water every day, or even every other day, and Pip couldn't remember the last time his cage had been properly cleaned. Plainly this was a bad situation, getting worse, and he had to figure out what to do.

"But I'm just a little bird - what on earth can I do?" he asked himself quietly, then decided that he might as well start at the beginning - perhaps that mouse had left a crumb or two of cracker somewhere about. Sure enough, there was one! Trotting over to it, he began to munch, trying not to listen to Barry growling to himself over his winecup.

Suddenly there was a loud crash, and Pip flew up, startled. He had to get out of here, now! Barry was up and crashing about the room, picking up things at random and throwing them at the walls, shouting something about having a life.

Terrified, Pip dived out the living room door into the hallway, just in time to avoid being hit by a flying ashtray. So afraid he was barely able to think, he noticed that the front door was beginning to open. Somebody was coming into the house! This was his chance, and he wasted no time in taking it - as the door opened a little wider, he shot through the gap and out the door.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Had all that really just been this morning? he wondered now to himself. It had been such a long, terrifying day that it seemed aeons ago, as if in another life. It was a completely different world out here, unlike anything he'd ever known, and he knew full well he'd been very lucky to survive this long. Somehow, he'd managed to avoid attacks by other birds, cats, and a terrier, and he'd even managed to find something to eat!

He'd still been thirsty though, but then he had spotted some wild birds eating the white stuff that covered the ground and made little caps on fenceposts and lumps on trees and such. Desperate, he'd tried it, and discovered to his amazement that it turned into water in his beak! It was terribly cold, and by the time he'd managed to slake his thirst a little he was dangerously chilled. Luckily, a little exercise had helped that.

But whenever he stopped to rest, the chill crept in, and now it was nearing evening. If he was going to make it through the night, he desperately needed a safe shelter to sleep in. It was already cold out here, but now it was rapidly getting colder, and so far every place he'd managed to find that looked even half promising was already staked out by other birds. Most of them quite a lot bigger than him!

Pip searched on, wishing Barry had allowed Mary to take him with her when she'd left. She'd been very upset at being forced to leave him behind, Pip knew, but he didn't blame her. Barry had made it clear to both of them that he had no qualms about using his fists on her again if she tried to take him. She'd tried to argue but in the end, she'd had no choice but to leave him behind. Pip knew she'd been lucky to get out in one piece, but he still missed her, and wished he'd been able to go with her.

It was almost dark now, and he could barely see. Wait a second! What was that up ahead? There was a glimmer of light brightening the growing darkness, and as he winged closer, he could see that it was a small fir tree, standing alone in the middle of a yard, covered in lights. Pip had fond memories of such a tree; every winter, Mary had decorated a tree with lights, and hung stars and cookies and other decorations on it, before piling presents for everybody she knew under it.

Pip had loved watching the play of coloured lights flickering over the tree, and he'd always gotten his share of presents, too - special treats that Mary knew he loved especially well.

Those lights reminded him of warmth, good food, and love, and he flew nearer. Perhaps this tree, too, had its inhabitants, who would take exception to his arrival, and drive him away? But everything stayed quiet as he drew nearer, and nobody protested when he landed on a branch and crept into the heart of the tree.

Once he'd caught his breath, he realized that each light emitted a little warmth. After a little looking around, he found himself a spot where he could perch in relative comfort, surrounded by lights. It was too bright to sleep properly, but at least the warmth could help keep him alive! Trying not to think of Mary, he tucked his head into his feathers and tried to sleep.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Sometime later - he was never quite sure how much later - he found himself suddenly awake. Something had disturbed him from his exhausted sleep, but what? Adrenalin was surging through his blood, and every instinct was urging him to fly NOW, before it was too late. But Pip was curious, too - something had seemed familiar to him, when he woke up, and he wanted to know what. Clinging to his branch, afraid to move, he listened for some clue as to what had awakened him.

One long minute passed, then another, and still there was nothing. Pip was almost ready to decide that it had been a dream or his imagination that had waked him, when a soft murmer crept into his ears from the other side of the tree.

"It's very pretty," a male voice said, "but I don't know why you want to hang those bits of fat and birdseed all over it too! Although they do look pretty, pressed out as little stars and bells the way you did..."

"Oh Dad, you know I love to put out Christmas treats for everybody!" a voice answered merrily, and on the other side of the tree, Pip straightened in startlement. That voice sounded like his Mary!

She was still talking, but Pip wasn't paying attention to the words anymore. The familiar sound brought a rush of memories of warmth, love, and merriment. He HAD to find out if this was his Mary! Carefully, he crept out of his hiding place, and shivered - it was colder out here than anything he'd ever experienced!

Carefully, he worked his way around the tree, using the small amount of illumination provided by the tree's lights to guide him. Finally, he was almost there, and he hopped onto a branch and cheeped as loudly as he could, looking for the source of the voices.

Two humans were standing there, but they were so wrapped in scarves and hats and coat, that he wasn't sure if either of them was anybody he knew, or if he'd just been dreaming. He must have startled them though - their conversation had stopped abruptly, and both were staring at him as if he were an apparition.

Then a hand came up and swept off a hat, and a voice gasped, "Oh my gosh, Pip! Is it really you? How on earth did you ever manage to get here!?"

It was his Mary! He cheeped gleefully and launched himself at her, landing on the edge of her scarf near her neck, clinging, making little peeps of joy, trying in an almost inarticulate way to tell her how miserable he'd been, and how he'd missed her.

"Oh Pip," she said softly, in her deep, warm voice, and her hand came up to cover him. "How I've missed you! How on earth did you manage to find your way here? It's almost enough to make a person believe in guardian angels! Come on, let's get you inside where it's warm. C'mon, Dad, we can finish the tree later!"

Normally Pip would have tried to prevent being caught by anybody, even Mary, but just now he wanted the security her hand offered, along with the extra bit of warmth it offered. He was glad to remain quiet under her sheltering hand as they walked towards the house.

"Barry phoned earlier, saying you'd escaped from your cage during a party last night," Mary's warm voice murmered to him, "but I hadn't thought you would have managed to get outside - or that you'd actually survive in this kind of weather! And to show up in my outdoor Christmas tree - how on earth did you manage that? It must be some kind of miracle! Oh Pip, it's so good to see you, I've missed you so much!"

They were inside now, and the warmth hit him as Mary's hand uncovered him and she said, "Here we are, Pip, welcome home!"

He looked up at her and cheeped, then looked around. He'd never been in this house before, but something about it seemed familiar. There was a couch nearby, and he flitted over to stand on the broad arm of the couch while Mary and her father shed their gear.

There was a window behind the couch, and through its panes he could see the tree he'd taken shelter in, glowing in jewel-like colours as the lights it was covered in sparkled and glimmered. His world had tilted, and had almost come apart - then had reformed around him, in the best way possible.

It was a miracle, he thought to himself, and lifted up his voice to sing. The night that could have been the darkest night of his life, had first brought him lights and warmth, then had reunited him with his best friend. Finally, all was right with the world. He'd come home.

by R C McDonald
www.robirda.com
Copyright © Dec 2005

"Everyone always asks me why my birds are such beautiful singers and breed such magnificent babies...I tell them that I learned from Robirda! While they give their birds all kinds of 'magical' formulas, I just follow your guide to 'keep it simple.' My birds are now very healthy, and there has been no recurrence of the infection. Thank Goodness!" R.C., Florida