The Purpose of a Pet

Growing up, we never had a pet.  So it is understandable that it would take me into my adult years to understand the purpose of a pet.  The animals that come into our homes, are special kinds of creatures.  They have no idea what they bring into our lives. But people with pets know.

Shiloh, my lovebird died today at 11:30am.  

My pet was a lovebird that no one wanted.  No one but me and D that is.  Before us, he was passed around 3 times.  Each time given away because he was too noisy, or too needy.  No one knew if Shiloh was a boy or a girl.  We didn't even know how old he was.  When we got him, he was easily frightened.  But we got to know him.  And he got to know us.  Soon he fit into the rhythm of our lives.  He developed his own habits and quirks.  He was a really smart bird.  He would chirp and jump around his cage when I got home.  He would blink and flirt when I stood beside his cage.  He would sit on my shoulder as I worked on the computer.  

Shiloh was a bird that had a big personality.  For example:

Shiloh knew when his bedtime was. Every night at about 10:00pm, he would make a terrible fuss.  We would cover his cage, and he would make contented sounds of a bird settling into sleep.  He never woke us up.  He would only start to chirp after he heard my voice.

Shiloh was a little manipulative.  D, Shiloh and I would play this game; D would call the bird and Shiloh would ignore it.  I would call the bird and Shiloh would answer.  Sometimes he would answer D with a quick "beep."  But when I called he always sang his song.

One of the funniest thing our bird would do is mimic sounds he heard a lot.  He surprised us once by mimicking a jackhammer in the distance.  The first time he make the sound, we had no idea what it was.  Later that day when we heard the jackhammer, we laughed.  Of all the sounds to mimic, he picked that one.

Shiloh loved to sing with me.  He would sit on the piano keys chasing my fingers as I played; punctuating my singing with his chirps.

The last memory I have of my pet is him struggling to breathe while I held him.  Then his seizing and dying.

When we took him in, I didn't know how attached I would become to this bird no one else wanted.  But I fell in love with my pet.    Now our home is a little more empty, and a little less fun without him.