Many years ago we lived in a small cottage. Ground floor us and 1st floor big fat snooty woman, her arrogant husband and their nice children. Opposite building, assorted kids of assorted ages and dispositions, a mad gardener who had pyromania, a piano teacher, assorted movie personalities and a few undescribeable human beings.
I wanted my kids to learn some elements of wildness, the same which had turned many of my mother's hair startling white. So the kids raced around barefoot and ate with dirty hands, climbed trees, cycled at dangerous speeds, rummaged in the overgrown garden and ofcourse lived with assorted animals. We had one dog, and another walked in our garden leaving his brothers and sisters with their mother. He was all flurry and cute and was promptly adopted. The lady upstairs had cats - lots of them. They slunk around all over the place, hissed at my dogs and drove them batty. So much so that when my daughter went up to play with the kids, one of my dogs kept guard, and kept giving her warning barks- telling her not to get too friendly with the cats. We kept fish, but they ate each other up. Many other dogs ran amok in the compound and my dogs would take off randomly to the beach. We had direct access to the beach, which was also an invitation for more wild dogs.
One day the kids ran in, highly excited. There was a gaggle of them kids. (I felt so proud looking at my dirty haired, filthy nailed, muddy faced kids..!!) In her tiny hands, Kanak had a small parrot baby, looking all disoriented and bewildered.
We immediately fashioned a large basket, tied up four ends, looped up the rope and hung it high on our balcony, which opened to the sky. We were loathe to close the bird in a cage. It was a fledgling, could barely fly, and we all feel in love.
Nippy (for he loved to nip at my gold earrings) soon grew as did the blood lust of my younger dog, Teddy. When we realised he could fly, but could not stay up for too long, we had to put him in a cage.
Nippy was then taken to our closed living room and left to fly. He would flutter, rise to the ceiling, try to sit on the fan (switched up please) and then land on my shoulder, climb up to my shoulders and nip my earrings. We were both in love with each other.
I realised that Nippy was desperate to fly. Thinking its natural for a bird to be that way, and be on his way, I let it be, until one day I saw something which made me take a deep breath for I had paled.
We would leave Nippy in his cage, and Teddy would place himself strategically right under the side Nippy was sitting, and alternately smack his lips and hang his jaw open. Just hoping that the bird would fall into it. To top it all Teddy made direct eye contact with the bird. Open mouthed and slack jawed I moved closer and saw the little bird's heart beating wildly in panic from under his little breasts.
I had nightmares that night and a few more, of waking up one day and seeing small birdy feathers and a few bones on my balcony, and Teddy sitting in a corner and looking like - well like- a dog who has swallowed a bird.
We left his (or was Nippy her?) cage open at nights and one day Nippy was gone. I admit I looked hard at Teddy, opened his jaw and checked and all that, but apparently, Nippy had flown his (makeshift) nest!
We have since shifted, kids have grown, so have the dogs, but I still look for Nippy across the skies when I hear parrots every morning. Teddy ofcourse had plenty of wild dreams, when he would smack his lips and paw the air, thinking he had killed a bird for a tasty morsel.
The gaggle of them kids, have grown, some become film heroines, some doctors, and my kids still have fond memories of those wild days.
I wanted my kids to learn some elements of wildness, the same which had turned many of my mother's hair startling white. So the kids raced around barefoot and ate with dirty hands, climbed trees, cycled at dangerous speeds, rummaged in the overgrown garden and ofcourse lived with assorted animals. We had one dog, and another walked in our garden leaving his brothers and sisters with their mother. He was all flurry and cute and was promptly adopted. The lady upstairs had cats - lots of them. They slunk around all over the place, hissed at my dogs and drove them batty. So much so that when my daughter went up to play with the kids, one of my dogs kept guard, and kept giving her warning barks- telling her not to get too friendly with the cats. We kept fish, but they ate each other up. Many other dogs ran amok in the compound and my dogs would take off randomly to the beach. We had direct access to the beach, which was also an invitation for more wild dogs.
One day the kids ran in, highly excited. There was a gaggle of them kids. (I felt so proud looking at my dirty haired, filthy nailed, muddy faced kids..!!) In her tiny hands, Kanak had a small parrot baby, looking all disoriented and bewildered.
We immediately fashioned a large basket, tied up four ends, looped up the rope and hung it high on our balcony, which opened to the sky. We were loathe to close the bird in a cage. It was a fledgling, could barely fly, and we all feel in love.
Nippy (for he loved to nip at my gold earrings) soon grew as did the blood lust of my younger dog, Teddy. When we realised he could fly, but could not stay up for too long, we had to put him in a cage.
Nippy was then taken to our closed living room and left to fly. He would flutter, rise to the ceiling, try to sit on the fan (switched up please) and then land on my shoulder, climb up to my shoulders and nip my earrings. We were both in love with each other.
I realised that Nippy was desperate to fly. Thinking its natural for a bird to be that way, and be on his way, I let it be, until one day I saw something which made me take a deep breath for I had paled.
We would leave Nippy in his cage, and Teddy would place himself strategically right under the side Nippy was sitting, and alternately smack his lips and hang his jaw open. Just hoping that the bird would fall into it. To top it all Teddy made direct eye contact with the bird. Open mouthed and slack jawed I moved closer and saw the little bird's heart beating wildly in panic from under his little breasts.
I had nightmares that night and a few more, of waking up one day and seeing small birdy feathers and a few bones on my balcony, and Teddy sitting in a corner and looking like - well like- a dog who has swallowed a bird.
We left his (or was Nippy her?) cage open at nights and one day Nippy was gone. I admit I looked hard at Teddy, opened his jaw and checked and all that, but apparently, Nippy had flown his (makeshift) nest!
We have since shifted, kids have grown, so have the dogs, but I still look for Nippy across the skies when I hear parrots every morning. Teddy ofcourse had plenty of wild dreams, when he would smack his lips and paw the air, thinking he had killed a bird for a tasty morsel.
The gaggle of them kids, have grown, some become film heroines, some doctors, and my kids still have fond memories of those wild days.
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