Shortly after I began working at a large law firm, I decided to buy a parakeet. I had been feeling rather downhearted and thought the cheerful chirping of a parakeet might lift my spirits.
When I was in high school, I had a friend who had a parakeet, and it was a real sweetie. My friend could take the bird out of its cage, and it would stay perched on her finger. She could even bring it up to her puckered lips, kissing its beak several times in a row. My classmate had also taught the parakeet to say “pretty bird.” It seemed such a happy relationship.
More recently, my neighbor had a parakeet for several years. She, too, had a pleasant relationship with her bird. She could let it fly loose around her house, the bird coming and going from its cage at will much of the day. It also fed on all sorts of interesting greens and fruits offered, helping to make life interesting for that little sweet bird and my neighbor. They were good company for each other until her parakeet died of old age (for a bird in captivity).
So although I had my precious doggie, I thought a parakeet would be just the right addition to my household. At the pet shop I perused all the parakeets carefully, so that I’d choose just the right one. Finally, I chose a blue and white, male parakeet. He had a vibrant blue cere (the nostril area above his beak), light blue feathers on his back, and when he lifted his wings, he revealed feathers on his upper back that were a gorgeous aqua. Truly a beautiful bird.
Looking back, I should have suspected something when he didn’t screech or flutter around like the other parakeets when I drew near their cage. If I thought of it at all, I probably thought he was a nice, calm, well-adjusted birdie. Had I been wiser, I might have guessed my fate and been prepared for the years that were to follow: I had managed to purchase one totally self-absorbed, anti-social parakeet.
My parakeet just plain didn’t like me. Never warmed to me and never was overly interested in me for the entire nine years of his life. Needless to say, by not being interested in me, he never learned to talk. I had read some short books on parakeets when “Booful” (short for Beautiful) came to live with me, and I suspected I didn’t have the time to work with him as much as was needed to bring forth word mimicry. Still, I had hoped, maybe ...
Of course, I did woo him with words and coo at him often. This would bring forth a momentary glance in my direction, accompanied by silence. Then his attention would return to the birdie in the mirror. Oh my, what a good-looking bird must have been in that mirror. Booful gazed at himself and tugged on the mirror, flipping it around, for hours each day. His own image was such a good companion to him, he didn’t need me. I would slowly put my hand in his cage and try to stroke him or pet him, but in all the years of his life, he never stopped trying to bite me. Often he successfully gave me a nip.
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One of only two photos I have of Booful, and they are both this blurry.
But I wanted to show how he had a lot of white,
and his "stripes" always remained very faint his whole life.
Here he is, admiring himself in the mirror. |
I did think about removing the mirror for awhile, but was afraid the shock would kill my little bird. After all, it wasn’t ever my intention to traumatize him. And outside of birdseed and his lava stone, he never ate anything else I offered him. On the contrary, he acted as if I were trying to kill him with whatever I put in his cage! I just never could convince the little darling that I was a friend and had his best interests at heart.
One night not too many weeks before the morning I found him lying stiff and cold at the bottom of his cage, I heard him squawking. I was already in bed, and so was he, having been covered up for the night. I knew something wasn’t right, though, because he was always quiet while covered up. I turned on the lights, went to his cage, and discovered that somehow he had managed to catch one of his little talons on the cover over his head. Fortunately, he let me free him and then sat very still on his perch.
It was then I was able to stroke him for the longest I ever could. I ran my finger down his back, his breast, and smoothed the top of his head. I knew he was in shock or he wouldn’t have allowed me to do that. I spoke to him in a soft voice, saying, “See how nice that is if you would let me do that. See...” The next day he was back to his usual aloofness, but for a few tender moments the previous night I had the sweet relationship with my little parakeet I had wanted to have all along, and a sort of bittersweet hello/goodbye as well.
The point of all this is that just as my bird simply didn’t like me, sometimes people just simply don’t like us either. Despite our attentions and our good intentions, we can just feel the wall between ourselves and certain others. We know the wall is there because we keep running right smack into it every time we try to be friendly towards them.
I realized some people (and birds) will just plain not take to us, and we don’t get to have a thing to do with it. It's their problem. They may not even realize or care that they come across as being unfriendly or snooty. It’s just the personality they have. Even if it is planned treatment of us on their part, it still doesn’t matter. We respond the same either way—we love them, just as I loved Booful, because that’s what the Lord requires of us (love your neighbor as yourself, Galatians 5:14).
As Christians, we are to especially love other Christians, and sometimes that's a challenge. Yet it is quite possible to not care for another’s personality, but to still love them. And when the persons in question don’t respond in kind, we can keep them in our prayers. Doing so helps us to love them more, and to serve Christ as a living example of His love.
For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” If you bite and devour each other, watch out or you will be destroyed by each other.
Galatians 5:14,15
(Note: I originally wrote the above a few years ago. When I bring writing over from Word, the formatting seems to have a mind of its own!)
Sending out greetings to my family, readers, followers
and new followers,
Bess
