My Baby Cockatiel

This is going to be the ending of my story. Since I grew up on the farm, my life was full of animals. From cats to dogs, then mice and now birds. My mother’s cockatiel had laid four eggs, but only two developed. But out of the two, only one made it; the first one died at birth hatching from the egg. The second one is four weeks old and is doing great. I already have someone who wants a bird from me. When I got the mated pair, I couldn’t hold them, for they would peck me. I tried to tame them and was able to pet the female when she came to the side of the cage. But just as I got to this point, they laid the eggs, and that ended. I hoped to get that back. I held the baby every day, and it was starting to know I was not going to hurt it.

Brian was over the other day, and the baby hadn’t gone back into the box yet. It just stared at him, but it didn’t hiss like it used to with me. I was glad to see this behavior with a total stranger. I feel the baby will be people-friendly. I will miss it when I give it away, but I hope there will be more. This baby is my first one, and I’m sorry the other one didn’t make it. It seems that all my life I was always around animals; they filled a void that I had in my life— and I loved every minute I spent with all of them.