My Cockatiel from Aussie
Spicy is her name. I wonder if she ever lived in Australia. I wonder if even her parents did. I wonder even if her grandparents did. And I wonder if cockatiels ever really knew this.
Spicy was brought from Animals and Things. She was about 6 months old when me and my brother took her out of the display cage. She was the more timid of the two, there was another in there with here but she did not look too appealing. My brother picked this one because he said she was peaceful. I said to myself “A peaceful prisoner, freed from this prison to be transferred to another prison at our house”.
My brother had to go and buy a bird I thought to myself. Why does he like buying pets only to not pay attention to them? He went to the cage section of the store and picked out this blue cage too short but narrow enough I guess. He barely had enough to walk out of the store with his new pet and its new prison or cage.
Well we got home. I began to watch my brother as he setup Spicy’s new home at the corner of the dining room. The dining room, you’ve picked a swell spot. I don’t want to be eating and have that bird standing there like a prisoner staring at me and my food. I heard cockatiels would eat anything but I’m not giving her nothing I what I’m eating.
My brother started to put the cockatiel food and water in her little poor cups. I stood watching him and his new bird. The new bird looked as if she had just witnessed the most shocking event of her life. She has actually. She was born into captivity to some commercial cockatiel breeder and sold to Animals and Things. She lived in captivity for the first six months of her life in the captivity of Animals and Things and now she was moving to my house to be in captivity for however long my brother decides to keep her.
This thing did bother me. I don’t know what it was. Maybe a question and so I went to bed with that question.
I woke up the next day with the question. I ate breakfast with the question, I went to work with the question, I hosted the restaurant with the question, and then that evening I came home with the question and with perhaps the answer right in front of me. She was eating when I returned home. She looked fine. But she was still in prison. A blue cage sitting atop a small table in the corner of my dining room in the corner of my house, in the middle of South Amboy.
Something sent me into a frenzy that night. It wasn’t a monster under my bed, a bedbug or my mother, it was a dream.
The view was great. I saw the sky much closer than usual. I saw the valleys and cliffs and plateaus under me just roll by. I had friends too. They were with me in the sky over the golden rolling hills, over the bronze cliffs and green trees. They protected me, as I protected them. Air was all around us, fresh air, enveloping air, and it was Australian air as soon as I saw a huge word on the rolling hills below me that said “Australia”; I then woke up.
I crept downstairs to eat something. It was breakfast time. It was also breakfast time for Spicy. My brother told me to feed her anytime he left for school early in the morning and I stood home. Today was such a time, I had no work this day, and I saw that the poor bird’s food cup was filled with broken shell casing.
This reminds me of some movie I saw, or perhaps a collection of movies that have become one whole picture in my head. I saw the picture of a man, dieing of starvation in his cell, a dark, gloomy cell, and then a hand popping through a tiny whole in the cell door dropping a bowl full of food to which the man then frantically jerks towards the bowl only to find bones under some water.
I shook my head and dumped the empty shells into the trash. I then took her food box of seeds and poured the food into her little bowl, I mean food cup. This is normal I said to myself. This is a human being feeding his pet. This is normal and there is nothing to have any questions about.
Then why did I have this one question? Where did it come from? I did eat with the question again this morning, I then studied with the question, I went out with my buddy with the question, I practiced my guitar with the question and then I went to bed yet again with the same question.
In my bed, I was starting to does off, but not before thinking about Spicy. I thought of the way she looked when I gave her the food in the morning. I thought of the way the bird looked back up at me at she started to inspect her food and begin to eat. I thought of how it would feel for me to be in that cage and be a prisoner to someone. And then I fell asleep.
I was flying again. But this time we weren’t just flying aimlessly through the air, but we were heading towards a destination. I just somehow knew we were all going somewhere important. The air was vibrant with coolness and the shine of all the bronze shades reflecting off the rolling hills below us and the blue Aussie sky around us. My friends were all different colors. Some were shades of bright yellow, others were white and others were shades of gray. All of their colors looked like they belonged in the picture rolling by under us and flowing around behind us. I was unaware of a discrepancy however until one of my friends flew right into my face squawking like an alarm clock; I had to get up for work.
Well to work I took the question again. It was stirring all kinds of recollection of my dream the night before while if was polishing silverware and filling the basket up in preparation for the dinner rush. I got home late and did not get to eat or see Spicy; I went straight to sleep.
We were flying again, but this time we were coming closer to those rolling hills under us. They were becoming clearer and clearer unto the point where I could make out lizards crawling through the bronze soil. I then saw our destination, it was a huge group of trees and we weren’t ready for what we saw next. We saw these humans in our tree! They picking at our nest like if they were the parents of the young inhabitants. I screamed as loud as all the others around me and then I was hit with something and I fell towards the ground, I was the jewel in one of those humans’ eyes, a rare purplish all white cockatiel. I woke up at soon as I hit the ground.
The thing is after that dream, I don’t remember having the question, I remember what the question was but I don’t remember the question coming with me anymore to breakfast or to work or to my friends house. The question simply vanished. I the dream I saw humans while being a cockatiel. They were living out there passions just as I was living out mine as a cockatiel.
I come back to the question as I sit by Spicy to eat my dinner. The question of whether or not we have a right to treat a cockatiel as a prisoner in a cage did not come up again. It vanished because well for one I am a human and not a cockatiel. An animal cannot do anything to imprison a human. A human could imprison another human, and that is wrong unless for ethical reasons. Yet it is ethical to have a pet cockatiel simply because it is a passion of a human.
And so the thing was gone, for the reason that I found a truth about humans and animals. Her blue cage doesn’t bother me as it did two weeks ago. I now wouldn’t mind feeding her some of my food. I told my brother that if he wasn’t going to keep his Spicy that I was going to. He agreed and I shook his hand.
Spicy now loved me more than him. Every morning she wakes me up. She wakes everyone up actually but she chirps just so that I could open up her cage and let her hop onto my shoulder and take her all over the house. I see her now as a pet and not a prisoner and its funny how sometimes I feel like an inmate when’s she’s on my shoulder.
Spicy is her name. I wonder if she ever lived in Australia. I wonder if even her parents did. I wonder even if her grandparents did. And I wonder if cockatiels ever really knew this.
Spicy was brought from Animals and Things. She was about 6 months old when me and my brother took her out of the display cage. She was the more timid of the two, there was another in there with here but she did not look too appealing. My brother picked this one because he said she was peaceful. I said to myself “A peaceful prisoner, freed from this prison to be transferred to another prison at our house”.
My brother had to go and buy a bird I thought to myself. Why does he like buying pets only to not pay attention to them? He went to the cage section of the store and picked out this blue cage too short but narrow enough I guess. He barely had enough to walk out of the store with his new pet and its new prison or cage.
Well we got home. I began to watch my brother as he setup Spicy’s new home at the corner of the dining room. The dining room, you’ve picked a swell spot. I don’t want to be eating and have that bird standing there like a prisoner staring at me and my food. I heard cockatiels would eat anything but I’m not giving her nothing I what I’m eating.
My brother started to put the cockatiel food and water in her little poor cups. I stood watching him and his new bird. The new bird looked as if she had just witnessed the most shocking event of her life. She has actually. She was born into captivity to some commercial cockatiel breeder and sold to Animals and Things. She lived in captivity for the first six months of her life in the captivity of Animals and Things and now she was moving to my house to be in captivity for however long my brother decides to keep her.
This thing did bother me. I don’t know what it was. Maybe a question and so I went to bed with that question.
I woke up the next day with the question. I ate breakfast with the question, I went to work with the question, I hosted the restaurant with the question, and then that evening I came home with the question and with perhaps the answer right in front of me. She was eating when I returned home. She looked fine. But she was still in prison. A blue cage sitting atop a small table in the corner of my dining room in the corner of my house, in the middle of South Amboy.
Something sent me into a frenzy that night. It wasn’t a monster under my bed, a bedbug or my mother, it was a dream.
The view was great. I saw the sky much closer than usual. I saw the valleys and cliffs and plateaus under me just roll by. I had friends too. They were with me in the sky over the golden rolling hills, over the bronze cliffs and green trees. They protected me, as I protected them. Air was all around us, fresh air, enveloping air, and it was Australian air as soon as I saw a huge word on the rolling hills below me that said “Australia”; I then woke up.
I crept downstairs to eat something. It was breakfast time. It was also breakfast time for Spicy. My brother told me to feed her anytime he left for school early in the morning and I stood home. Today was such a time, I had no work this day, and I saw that the poor bird’s food cup was filled with broken shell casing.
This reminds me of some movie I saw, or perhaps a collection of movies that have become one whole picture in my head. I saw the picture of a man, dieing of starvation in his cell, a dark, gloomy cell, and then a hand popping through a tiny whole in the cell door dropping a bowl full of food to which the man then frantically jerks towards the bowl only to find bones under some water.
I shook my head and dumped the empty shells into the trash. I then took her food box of seeds and poured the food into her little bowl, I mean food cup. This is normal I said to myself. This is a human being feeding his pet. This is normal and there is nothing to have any questions about.
Then why did I have this one question? Where did it come from? I did eat with the question again this morning, I then studied with the question, I went out with my buddy with the question, I practiced my guitar with the question and then I went to bed yet again with the same question.
In my bed, I was starting to does off, but not before thinking about Spicy. I thought of the way she looked when I gave her the food in the morning. I thought of the way the bird looked back up at me at she started to inspect her food and begin to eat. I thought of how it would feel for me to be in that cage and be a prisoner to someone. And then I fell asleep.
I was flying again. But this time we weren’t just flying aimlessly through the air, but we were heading towards a destination. I just somehow knew we were all going somewhere important. The air was vibrant with coolness and the shine of all the bronze shades reflecting off the rolling hills below us and the blue Aussie sky around us. My friends were all different colors. Some were shades of bright yellow, others were white and others were shades of gray. All of their colors looked like they belonged in the picture rolling by under us and flowing around behind us. I was unaware of a discrepancy however until one of my friends flew right into my face squawking like an alarm clock; I had to get up for work.
Well to work I took the question again. It was stirring all kinds of recollection of my dream the night before while if was polishing silverware and filling the basket up in preparation for the dinner rush. I got home late and did not get to eat or see Spicy; I went straight to sleep.
We were flying again, but this time we were coming closer to those rolling hills under us. They were becoming clearer and clearer unto the point where I could make out lizards crawling through the bronze soil. I then saw our destination, it was a huge group of trees and we weren’t ready for what we saw next. We saw these humans in our tree! They picking at our nest like if they were the parents of the young inhabitants. I screamed as loud as all the others around me and then I was hit with something and I fell towards the ground, I was the jewel in one of those humans’ eyes, a rare purplish all white cockatiel. I woke up at soon as I hit the ground.
The thing is after that dream, I don’t remember having the question, I remember what the question was but I don’t remember the question coming with me anymore to breakfast or to work or to my friends house. The question simply vanished. I the dream I saw humans while being a cockatiel. They were living out there passions just as I was living out mine as a cockatiel.
I come back to the question as I sit by Spicy to eat my dinner. The question of whether or not we have a right to treat a cockatiel as a prisoner in a cage did not come up again. It vanished because well for one I am a human and not a cockatiel. An animal cannot do anything to imprison a human. A human could imprison another human, and that is wrong unless for ethical reasons. Yet it is ethical to have a pet cockatiel simply because it is a passion of a human.
And so the thing was gone, for the reason that I found a truth about humans and animals. Her blue cage doesn’t bother me as it did two weeks ago. I now wouldn’t mind feeding her some of my food. I told my brother that if he wasn’t going to keep his Spicy that I was going to. He agreed and I shook his hand.
Spicy now loved me more than him. Every morning she wakes me up. She wakes everyone up actually but she chirps just so that I could open up her cage and let her hop onto my shoulder and take her all over the house. I see her now as a pet and not a prisoner and its funny how sometimes I feel like an inmate when’s she’s on my shoulder.
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