Your first bird

Its a commonly enough asked question, especially among birdie minded folk. 'What was your first bird? How old where you when you got it?"

I have another question, birdie folk. When was the first time you realized you were destined to become a bird owner? I know some people have grown up around parrots and it just seems to come naturally, while others just got stuck with that odd pet and poof- love at first site. But do you ever look back at the years before your house was a live-in jungle and wonder if you ever saw warning signs of what the years ahead were destined to be like?

I was chatting with one of my best friends via IM the other day. Her and I go way back. We met in 3rd grade elementary school and were in the same class every year until I moved away- have stayed in constant contact ever since. I had pulled out this box of pictures that had gotten sucked into some unknown closet vortex (you know the type...) and was just reviewing the pictures. It was a bunch of pictures of me, my friend, and our 'old gang' from elementary school. Good times, good times.

So here we are getting all nostalgic and sappy, and memories are flooding back like everything happened just yesterday. And I remember the moment that I will define as my first 'birdie moment'. AKA destined to clean up bird poop for the rest of my life :D

Elementary school, 4th grade.

Aww, come on folks. Don't some of you struggle to know WHY one day the urge hits you to drop an insane amount of money on a pile of feathers that squawks, bites, poops, flings food all over your walls and carpet, and makes your neighbors pull their hair in frustration? All while you are looking on with adoration in your eyes, of course.

I remember growing up and thinking parrots were cool. I remember someone in my 6th grade class bringing in their blue and gold macaw, and thinking it was a pirate parrot. *insert rolling of the eyes here*

But seriously. Wouldn't you love to have that defining moment in your life and bottle it, preserve it somehow, and look back, perhaps give your past self a little shake and scream 'WHAT THE HECK WERE YOU THINKING?!'

hehe.

Back to my story.

It was fourth grade. We were in the artsy phase of life. You know what I am talking about... lots of chorus, hands on learning, and lots of art classes. I remember lots of play-acting at recess, too. I grew up with a cat or two around the house, a dog (m y grandparents) and the occasional fish, but nothing more exotic.

I remember one day drawing what I considered the classic 'parrot'- long tail, big beak, wings. Flashy bright colors. I thought it was the coolest thing since sliced bread. Cut the little figure out, and to make it really seem lifelike, make a pesudo ring out of paper which I promptly glued the parrots feet too. Attach the ring to your finger, and with some maneuvering, the parrot could stand up on his own! Err... wave in the wind? Flap and catch the breeze?

Anyhow. I was the hit of the playground. I had a pet bird! Take that contraption out to recess and before you know it everyone was on that piece of paper like you thought it was a bowl full of sugar candy. Soon my time in class...err... extra time, was spent making paper parrots for friends. I bet during recess the monitors were scratching their heads wondering what fad was this- everyone seemed to be walking around with parrots!

Sadly I don't know whatever happened to my original Polly. I guess he/she got lost in the shuffle of life. Funny how memories like that get buried- much like those pictures did, and resurface after time.

Polly the paper parrot, I salute you!!!