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Why, as humans, do we think that it is in any way acceptable to neglect/abuse/ignore a creature that is in our care by our own will? I see plucked birds, birds with gaping holes in their chest and I just..sympathize with their sadness and their anxiety and their..just..grief. I don't care if I'm anthropomorphizing them, I think, of all animals, parrots just seem to have a little "more" to them.
When I look into Bailey's eyes, I see love. I see an insurmountable amount of emotion in her face. I can't imagine ever hurting her - the THOUGHT of it or the thought of someone else doing something to her makes my physically ill. She isn't MINE, or my property or anything of the like - she is my friend and my companion and I swear to god I'll be the luckiest person in the world if I can spend the rest of my life with her by my side.
Dusty is my heartbreak. I want so much to be able to fix her and help her let her scars heal. I sit all the time and just talk to her and she leans her head on me and we just breathe together. I feel like... I feel like we're both broken and both screwed up but we are also very strong. She pulls feathers and I create scars. But I have so much hope and love and sheer emotion for her, and I know that someday [we] she will kick these habits.
And of course, the budgies. Those silly little, gregarious riots of feather and spirit. They fill my life with their songs and chatter and even though they decline my affection - I know and am happy that I can give them happiness, especially after the rough starts they had in their lives. I feel better knowing that they will spend their lives happy, [as a bird can be in captivity] happy until the day they pass.
Ah, I'm being mushy. I should go to bed.
