Sunday 26 July 2020

Life, love and death. On my balcony.


Goldie died, Friday morning. The bright green-and-yellow lovebird had come into our lives a year ago, along with Aqua, a blue-and-white beauty - a gift for my children from their grand aunt. We had up until then enforced a no-pets rule in the house that the children had found utterly unfair. I would point at the heaps of toys scattered all over the house, the mess of craft projects and their untidy study tables and tell them I already had too much on my plate to handle another living creature in our cluttered life. On a visit to my Uncle and Aunt's, the kids had been fascinated by their cages full of chirping lovebirds and pigeons and my Aunt promised to give them a pair, later, when she came to visit us sometime. I mentally thanked her for diplomatically handling the situation without disappointing the kids. Little did I know that months later, when my cousins were home on their annual visit from abroad, she would send over a pair, as promised. I could not bring myself to turn the gift down. And thus we found ourselves, pet owners. 

Aqua and Goldie, our original pair. with their new-found yellow mates in the initial days

Love, action, drama

It was my friend Mekha's Dad who first pointed out that the pair were not a couple - they were both the same sex. I shrugged and did not think too much of it - until he showed up the next day with a pair of bright yellow lovebirds for Aqua and Goldie to pair up with. It is not healthy for them not to have mates, he said. They might end up fighting and killing each other for no reason. And thus our bird family grew. The girls, at the time besotted with their Dad's latest movie, named the newcomers Kochunni and Pakki. In a few weeks, Kochunni had paired off with the blue Aqua and Pakki with the green Goldie.

The girls were dedicated to the cause of 'domesticating' them. They would spend hours talking to them, reading to them, singing to them. Now lovebirds are not the best pet material if you are looking for moments like them cuddling up to you or showing affection or even allowing themselves to be touched or petted. The most we got out of them was that they would huddle towards the feeding bowl when they saw any of us, whether they were already fed or not. Over a period of time, the kids started losing interest in these not-too-friendly pets. And then one day magic happened. 

In one of the earthen pots we had put up for their nests was a bright, shiny little egg! The entire house - including my mother who is famously averse to animals of any sort - was filled with a kind of eagerness and curiosity. There is just something about new life - in any form - that makes you feel hopeful and optimistic about everything. 20 days later, there he was - a tiny, pink blob of flesh that looked like it may be crushed if we so much as looked too hard at it! Our first bird baby - what else could we name him but 'Chicky?!  That soon metamorphosed into Chickadoo. We were besotted by him and mesmerized with the marvels unfolding before our eyes every day - the first crop of downy white appearing on the pink skin, which soon deepened into a pale green as he grew bigger and stronger with each passing day. 

Our first baby, Chickadoo, the day he was born.
(you may need to look real hard to spot him)
Pakki and Goldie in Exile

Did I mention that it was Kochunni and Aqua who were the proud parents of our little Chickadoo? It was only when Kochunni, named after the legendary thief of Kayamkulam, laid an egg that we realised we had got their genders mixed up in the beginning! Not that it made any difference to their bird lives but to us, humans, the names were too entrenched in our minds to change them now! The reason why this clarification is important is because Pakki, the other female, smaller and more fierce, one day decided that little Chickadoo was an unnecessary addition to the group. She sneaked into the pot and pecked him hard on his little neck. There was panic and fear in the household when we realised our baby bird was badly hurt. We untied Chickadoo's earthen nest and carried him, pot and all, to the Pet Hospital nearby. The vet carefully cleaned out his wounds and told us he would make it but the aggressive female needed to be removed from the cage. 

It was time for Pakki's banishment. We decided it would be too harsh to put her in exile all by herself, so we also transferred her mate, Goldie, along with her to a smaller cage we had. Now I should tell you a little bit about Goldie. To me, he seemed like the bird equivalent of Sanjeev Kumar from the old Hindi movies - the kind who would look on with immeasurable affection even as his wife did something crazy. Now the hero and his petulant girlfriend found themselves cut off from the habitat they were used to, although the cages were placed side by side. As Chickadoo healed in peace under our loving, tender care, Pakki and Goldie glowered from their little holding cell. 

Taking care of little Chickadoo gave us a little bit of that 'cuddly pet' feeling we had missed with the birds so far. We stroked his little head as we put drops in his mouth through a filler and watched with pride as he stepped out of his little pot-nest one fine day, all on his own! I think the girls and I were far more proud than Aqua and Kochunni that day! We were in fact a little peeved with the pair of them for not doing enough to protect their chick from his jealous aunt's attacks (yup, we had a whole Disney movie going on in our collective imagination.) Things were going pretty ok, until the next unexpected twist. Pakki laid an egg. 

Pakki and Goldie Return

There were no nesting pots in the little cage. We had not given that much thought to Pakki and Goldie's needs when we moved them out of the larger cage - after all, they were in disgrace. But there was the egg, rolling slowly on the floor of the bare cage and Goldie seemed to be looking at us with accusing eyes. Within the hour, the egg was carefully shifted to Pakki's old pot and the pair of jailbirds (don't you love a good pun when it springs at you? I do!) were put back in with their former roommates. Pakki went berserk for a short while, flying around aggressively screeching and apparently trying to terrorise Aqua and Kochunni out of their lives. But for some reason, she stayed resolutely away from Chickadoo this time. He was now quite capable of looking after himself too. She laid claim to both pots, not allowing Kochunni near either of them. But she could not keep this up for long. After some venting in this fashion, she finally decided on one and settled into it. It was the empty one. 

Pakki had turned her back on the egg she laid in exile. Thankfully for that little egg, Kochunni laid an egg herself in the next couple of days. She unintentionally started incubating her rival's egg too. Pakki herself went on to lay three more eggs in that batch. As fate would have it, the only egg that successfully hatched in Kochunni's pot this time was the rogue, discarded egg. Out came little Mimi, all pretty and blue and Kochunni seemed none too wiser to her origins. She and Aqua doted on her just like they had little Chickadoo.

Meanwhile, Goldie was showering Pakki with care and affection as she patiently incubated her own brood. Soon, we had beautiful little Lily and clownish-looking Bobo join the pack. Pakki and Goldie tended to their babies like perfect parents and this time there was no pecking or attacking. The three new chicks seemed to bond and it was the cutest sight to see them huddled up together. Only poor Chickadoo, lonesome survivor of his batch, continued to be lonely.


Our new babies huddling together. The yellow flecked with a little green
in the center is Lily, the beauty. Trying to join in the huddle is Chickadoo. 


Death makes its first uninvited stop

One morning, for no apparent reason, little Lily stopped breathing. She had been the prettiest in the cage - vivid yellow with just a dash of green thrown in. She was my favourite, the one I had sworn not to give away when the time came. The kids and I had agreed that we would not keep more than six birds at a time. We would keep Chickadoo and Lily. Mimi and Bobo would go to another home. There was never any question of giving away our original four - Kochunni and Aqua; Pakki and Goldie. And then Lily died. Just like that. For no reason. 

Our hearts were broken that day. All of us kept looking into the cage as if Lily was just going to pop out of one of the pots again, like we had seen her do all these days. But Lily had already taken flight. Out of our home and hearts and into an unknown dimension. Our first loss.

I told the kids angrily that this was one of the main reasons I had not wanted pets in the first place. They die. They steal your affections and then die. Leaving little knots in your throat when they should have been happily flitting around in their cage.

The kids were truly shaken by Lily's loss too. It took them a while to start reading and singing to the birds again. I hoped the birds would not get into another breeding season any time soon. I was done with all that excitement. I wanted less of them in the cage and in our lives. 

Life Goes On

Kochunni was the first to start laying again. But for some reason, she decided she was not ready for another round of babies. She methodically threw each egg she laid out of the pot. I have no idea what brought on that behavior. Had she known all along that the last baby she raised was not really hers? (More likely, she was suffering from calcium deficiency, Mekha's Dad said. But we humans will always look for human explanations to everything around us.) 

Birds really do seem to have a mind of their own. Kochunni did not want babies right now. And out went 4 shiny eggs. My daughters were angry with her. I told them it was her body, her life, her decision. Also, that they should not attribute human thoughts and emotions to the actions of animals. (though that is exactly what I had been doing, within my own mind.)

Then Pakki started laying too. She is incubating her latest clutch as I write this. We don't know which of those will hatch and which of the hatchlings will survive. What we do know is that this time around, Pakki is on her own. Goldie left to join his little girl, two days ago. Just like in Lily's case, we don't really know why. 

Goldie's last morning

Friday morning, before the girls settled into their online classes, I opened the door to the balcony where the birdcage is. We, the girls and I, had an impromptu session of chatting up the birds. They came towards the feeding bowls as they usually do when they see us. Goldie was clutching at the cage bars as he usually does. I put a finger in and touched his soft tummy. He did not threaten me with his beak or even flit away as usual. 'What's up with Goldie today? He seems friendly,' I told the girls. They tested out my hypothesis by also reaching in with their fingers in and stroking the bright green feathers. He let himself be stroked - it was most un-Goldie of him! Then it was time for their classes and we moved on to our day.

A little while later we noticed him sitting on the floor of the cage - very uncharacteristic of him and our first warning signal. Our hearts sank a little when we saw him sitting there, breathing heavily, feathers puffed, quite immobile. We knew then that he was sick, quite sick. Pakki came out of the pot a couple of times, leaving her precious eggs alone for a few moments at a time to sit by her mate. She pecked him gently on the head and nudged him with her beak as he sat there, painfully melting away before our eyes. Then she went back into her pot for the final time. Before online sessions were over for the day, Goldie had keeled over to the side, silent and motionless. Pakki did not come out of the pot thereafter.

We bid a tearful goodbye to our little friend of the past year, our stoic Sanjeev Kumar bird, wondering what Pakki would do now; whether she would miss her partner when the babies were born. I reminded myself to not attribute human thoughts and emotions to the birds but I cannot help feeling a pang in my heart every time I see the little yellow head peering out of the pot. I can see the other birds take food to her - they seem to understand she needs them now. Maybe in time one of them will fill in for Goldie. 

The girls were told by their father that Goldie was having a party with Lily right now - how they must have missed each other! They seemed to find joy in that thought. I think I might too. 

Whenever anyone asked my opinion about having pets, I have always discouraged them. I would tell them about having to clean up poop and wash smelly bowls. About disgusting messes and unwanted responsibility. I think I should start telling them about life in its infinite variety and immense drama unfolding before our eyes. About children learning how to be responsible for something other than themselves. And how they learn to deal with life. And death. And love. Even if it breaks their little hearts every now and then.

My devoted little girl reading to her birds



PS: We still have all the birds that survived, chicks and all. The idea was that we would give them away when they got to be too much for us. That day isn't here, just yet.