The Less Than Perfect Bird by Lynda Lewis

The less then perfect bird sat alone in her cage. Watching the perfect birds leave each and every day. She was bedraggled and straggly, older then her years. She never had an owner who showed her love or care.

The beautiful conures, the big grand blue and gold, these birds were leaving and oh, the stories that they told. They were going to a place called “home” where they would spend their lives. Life would be happy for them, no more would they know strife.

Not that life in the rescue was bad. I was happy , I was loved. But I could not help but wonder what I was missing out of.

The one day the rescue lady looked at me and sighed. She called the vet, he took blood and brought the lady aside. He said to her things do not look good, she might not have a year. The rescue lady with a tear said this is what I feared.

The rescue lady held and kissed me. She said you may not find a home. But I will be with you, you will not die alone.

Then one day a woman came in and passed the perfect birds by. She pointed at me and said this one has caught my eye. The rescue lady sighed and said, this one is not so great. She is plucked and sad, a short life is her fate. But the woman took me home and showed me so much love. Good food and happiness , like manna from above.

Then one day the woman called the rescue and cried, her sweet little less than perfect bird had died. The woman buried me in a little grave and told me I was so loving and so brave.

Then my soul took flight to the heavens up above. I flew right to the angels and told them of the love that I was given in my very last year. I asked when they saw the Big guy to whisper in his ear about the wonderful people who gave me such good care.

So that’s the end of my story and I thank the stars above that this less than perfect bird experienced perfect love.

Dedicated to Buzzy, Sunny, Sylvie ( less than perfect birds who have passed on) and the people who share/shared their lives with less than perfect birds. To take in a bird who is plucked and not healthy with no expectations other then to give the bird a good, love filled life is one of the most wonderful things you can do!

Grammar errors in this poem are artistic and not actual mistakes. Permission to use the poem in newsletters and other not for profit publishing is allowed but please leave the wording as is and give credit to me.

Lynda Lewis

2 thoughts on “The Less Than Perfect Bird by Lynda Lewis

  1. I foster birds for PEAC and the first one I got was named Benny. He had plucked his feathers and didnt like men all to much. I had him for 7months and was starting the paperwork to adopt him. One morning I wake up to my daughter screeming. “Mommy something is wrong with Benny he is on the floor of his cage.”
    Benny was still alive at the time but died on they way to vets. Found out later that Benny had cancer. we never knew. they ran othier test but cause of how much it cost to run that one Peac couldnt afford to check but at least he was in a loveing home for the last 7 months of his life.

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