Doe-doe the Bird

A few years ago, my daughter begged for a pet parakeet.  My grandparents had a pair of parakeets for years.  The birds were a source of amusement for them, so I caved.  We picked out a pretty little bird, bought a new cage and she named him “Doe-Doe.”  Doe-doe the bird. 

Maddy held the bird all the time.  She would put it in her Barbie house, wrap it in a blanket like a baby, or push it on the swing… the fun never ended.  Maddy would set the bird on the table while she was eating, and command, “now SIT!”  The bird would listen to her!  He hated the rest of us, mind you.  He would bite everyone but Maddy.  It started getting ridiculous; only Maddy could feed him, etc.  She started giving us problems - she would sneak out of bed at night, get the bird out of its cage and SLEEP with it!  I was so worried the cat would get a hold of it!  Mornings started to get really hard, she didn’t want to go to school, because she wanted to be with her bird! 

One day, Maddy and I went on a shopping trip.  We’re in the middle of an aisle when I hear a “chirp!”  I’m thinking I’m going nuts when I look at Maddy, and she’s talking into her purse.  I rush over, take a look, and there sits the bird, in her purse, in the middle of the store. 

Doe-doe took a vacation over to grandma’s house, to give mom a break.  The morning I took him to grandma’s, we had pancakes for breakfast.  Naturally, Doe-doe was full of syrup.  I ran him under some warm water, his beak digging into my hand the entire time, and my grandmother yelling, “You can’t give a bird a bath!”  I asked, “Well, what else do you suggest I do?!”  I put him back in his cage, on the back porch, in the sun to dry and stay warm.  Grandma calls me later that day with the news; Doe-doe didn’t make it.  Guess you’re not supposed to give a bird a bath.