Saturday, November 05, 2005
Stealing Augustine
He was old when I found him, I knew that. The markings on their heads slowly fade like a receding hairline as they age, and so I noted his age when I found him.
And he'd been less energtic lately, not sick, just more subdued, like a clock slowly widing down.
It was hard to find him passed on today, apparently slipping away while I took a nap.
But I found peace with some thing I'd never admitted publically before.

I stole him.

Not long after I found him, scared and hungry in the gutter of a four lane street, I DID find out who his owners were, and I deliberately did not return him. They never once went to look for them, and pacified their little girl with another bird, teaching her that pets are disposable and not to be looked for. The neighbors said they would leave poor Augie in a cage on the porch, in the scorching hot Californa sun. The little girl handled him at will, without supervision or instruction. Augie showed signs of abuse and neglect. I had some serious pangs of conscience, deliberately keeping 'property' that didn't belong to me, but in the end I decided that my responsibility was to the innocent party, poor Augie.

And I gave him everything he should have, a large cage with a swinging tent, more toys then he could play with, millet, and most of all, Gillian.

Augie was so tramatized by humans, I knew that attempting to hand tame him would destroy him with stress, as would loneliness, so I adopted Gillian from a woman closing down an aviary.

Augie loved her with all the untapped devotion in his little bird heart. Every instinct in him, to love and bond with another creature, went to her, instincts long repressed for lack of anything that he could trust.

And when I think about the happy end I gave him, I know I'd do it again.


1 Comments:

Blogger Michael said...

i'm so proud of you vj!

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