Fly away

Our little canary, Jimmie, was found on the bottom of his cage this morning after passing sometime during the night.  It was seven years (almost to the day) since we got him although we are not sure how old he was at that time.  It was one year (to the day) since we lost our 19-year-old cat.  We are now down to a single animal, our black pug, which makes the house feel a little bigger and a little quieter.

R buried the bird in the back flower bed after placing him in a pretty Kleenex box, cushioned with paper towels.  I hope I don't discover him if I ever get an urge to plant something back there, but I imagine he'll return to the earth fairly quickly.  It's in an area that I've never planted so the odds are slim given that the rest of the flower beds need attention first.

We took his cage down from the kitchen window with a view of the back yard and I cleaned the glass spotted from his daily baths.  Once I hung a feeder on the outside of his window so he could watch some of his feathered friends up close, but I had to take it down when squirrels clawed their way up the screen to get to the bird seed.  A few months ago I hung his cage outside under the eaves so he could get fresh air (he loved that) but I caught a neighborhood cat leaping up and grabbing the cage which made that the last time we hung him outside.  Still, I like to think he had a good life with variety and a lovely view of the outside and changing seasons.  

Every Sunday, we papered the bottom of his cage with the Sunday comics so he had something fun to read.  Most mornings I'd talk to him when I changed his water, calling him "Jimmie-Jim".  He like to be caged alone, but he did interact when spoken or sung to.  Or when I would whistle.  I sometimes played a CD of bird songs on a loop for him during the day to keep him company.  I was never sure if it did anything for him, but it sounded pretty.  I will have to play it for myself now, and think of him.

R.I.P, Jimmie.  You had a beautiful song in your day.