He arrived into our lives much the way he left us. That is to say, we didn't seek him out, nor he us. And when he left us, it was sudden, unplanned and stunningly swift.
He was our cockatiel, my wife Bianca's and my pet bird. He was a pearl-grey, the most common type of tiel, the bird that is native to Austraiia.
My wife has 20 years experience with tiels. When the bird we came to know as Pico arrived a few days after Labor Day, 2001, I was resistant. I had no interest in keeping a bird. They seemed so simple, just feathers and beaks and talons, and excrement that I'd have to clean up.
He'd been picked up off the street in Maple Valley, Washington by a guy driving a pickup. The story goes that the little fellow was right at home on the driver's shoulder, giving him little ear nibbles. This was a bird who, though only a few months old at the time, had obviously been much loved.
He spent several months with a family that had too many pets to keep him long. So they gave him up free and we were lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time.
Hmm...some luck, I remember thinking at the time.
Right from the start, he took to us virtually without hesitation. This bird loved to be nuzzled, massaged, stroked. He craved it. We'd never seen anything like this before.
After a brief period of skiddishness, he settled down to become a fabulous house companion and I soon got used to cleaning up his droppings, even allowing him to land on top of the fridge (though we eventually banned that). We'd get his wings and talons clipped every now and again but, for the most part, he was free to roam our condo.
I learned a lot from him. He taught me several calls and variations within calls. We set up a perch in the master bathroom, where he could see himself in the mirror, clean his tail feathers and just sit, sometimes for hours. He'd climb on our wedding photo and sit there, content as could be. We hung beads to separate the master closet from the master bathroom and he'd climb the beads like a circus aerialist, hanging upside down as we'd laugh.
He taught me to see love in a new way, as something that pulsates like a vibrating ball of light, that shines like an incandescent bulb. He sometimes seemed so insistent on being stroked, that I often wondered whether we spent too much time with him. He'd often walk to the edge of our dining room table and start this intense clucking in which his entire body vibrated. Bianca said she thought it was an orgasm. I always thought it was really him just expressing joy in the moment.
I used to wonder what would happen if he ever flew away. Once, early on, I walked outside to our non-attached garage, got into my car and was shocked to notice he'd been on my left shoulder (his favorite spot) the entire time.
A month ago, we brought home an 8-week old male Chihauaha, whom we named Paco. Pico and Paco seemed to have a good ring, though it's almost too cute to be real. The dog and the bird slowly began to touch each other, never with malice but only genuine curiosity. I imagined that Pico felt secure in the knowledge that he could escape the dog's clutches in a flash.
I was right. The fact that he had full use of his wings, I believe, made him feel more secure around the dog.
I'll admit it, we coddled Pico, the bird I called "God's favorite cockatiel." We even ripped most of our carpeting out and replaced it with Pergo, in part to make it easier to clean up after him.
On New Year's Day, we'd had a potluck at the community recreation center when the power went out. I'd just awakened from a nap and noticed all the lights had gone out while I slept. I was worried about the pets, since it was pitch dark. I tracked down our emergency flashlight and helped the dog find his food dish. Then I went to the bathroom, where Pico'd been resting. He jumped onto my hand and then to my left shoulder, secure. After several minutes dealing with Paco, I went to the sliding glass door, swung it open and stepped outside into the pouring rain, headed for the recreation center. It was about 4:30 p.m. After about 1-2 minutes, I suddenly became aware of Pico on my shoulder and I panicked. That startled him and he took wing, circling above me clockwise, calling out to me and I to him.
And just like that, he was gone.
