[Critique Group 1] submission for 8/23/17 session

[sitting.duck at springmail.com]

About 3300 words
A Pet for Becky

Becky was listening to the list of items in the memo of her ID Mate when she heard the sound of scamp whistling in the background of one of the notes. She reran the note remembering the little pet cockatiel that died in July three years ago. At the time, she decided not to get another bird. She could no longer see well enough to catch signs of illness in the bird and by the time her care giver Donna had mentioned the bird was acting different, it was too late. Donna helped her rush the bird to the vet but Scamp died two weeks later. If it hadn't been for her Retinitis Pigmentosa she would have seen that Scamp was sick before it was too late to help him. Besides, her vision continued to deteriorate . By the end of the year, she probably would be total, But she missed having a pet. Something to care for. Something, that hopefully, would care back. Over the last three years she had researched other kinds of exotic pets, thought about getting a guide dog, and even considered a hairless cat. What she came up with was that a bird was really the only suitable pet for her considering her other health issues. She sighed, put down the ID mate and picked up her wireless keyboard, opened the note file on her computer, typed "grain" into the search box field, and pressed enter. The search landed on Marshall Feed & Grain. Arrowing to the right she found their phone number, picked up her phone and punched in the number.
"Marshal Seed & Grain."
"I Bought a baby cockatiel from a feed store several years ago. I was wondering if you might have any now."
"We don't sell birds anymore"
"Do you know where I might find one? The ones at the pet stores are usually six months old or more and I want a baby."
"A while back I heard of a woman whose hobby was birds and she opened a store with all kinds of bird stuff." she paused for a moment. "I don't remember what it was called."
"Do you know her name?"
There was silence for a while. "I think it might be the Pampered Bird ."
"Do you by chance know the number?"
There was another few moments of silence and she came back and gave Becky the phone number for the store.
Becky thanked her and hung up.
"I must be nuts," Becky said aloud, "Nothing has changed. I still don't have any business with a bird."
She went to the kitchen and popped a turkey dinner in the microwave.
On the way back to her bedroom she glanced in the hall bathroom at the empty cage. She could barely make out the form of the cage that looked dark inside and remembered how it had looked to see Scamp standing there against the far wall of the cage.
In the bedroom, she picked up the phone and punched in the number for the pet store.
An answering system picked up.
"You have reached the Pampered Bird. We are in the store from noon to 5:00pm Wednesday thru Sunday. See you then." It said and hung up without letting her leave a message.
"That's nice," she said pushing the OFF button and laying the phone on the bed.
Wednesday about noon she called again.
"Pampered Bird," a pleasant sounding lady answered.
"Do you have any baby cockatiels?"
"we have some that are not yet weaned and some that have just been weaned."
"How old are the ones that have just been weaned?"
"Nine weeks."
"I thought cockatiels had to be ten weeks before they were ready to wean."
"Some people wait ten weeks, but these are old enough."
"How do I get there from the south?"
The lady gave her directions and they ended the call.
Later, Becky sat typing notes into her computer while her care giver slipped on her socks and fastened her shoes.
"Give me your arm," he said.
"Oh, sorry," she said as she lifted her arm from the keyboard so he could strap on her talking watch.
"I called a pet store I heard about Monday," she said. "They have baby cockatiels. They have some that are still being hand fed and some that are just weaned."
After he finish, she put her computer into sleep mode, laid her wireless keyboard aside, and offered her hand so he could help her up.
"We're going to get a bird today," she said.
"Ok, but I thought you had decided you couldn't take care of a bird."
"I don't know. I just know I want a pet and I've researched turtles, lizards, Iguana, snakes, rabbits, gerbils, Guinea pigs, hamsters, and hairless cats, but they are more trouble than I want to go to for a pet. I love dogs, but they have to be walked and I don't think I would always be able to do that. I could let it out into the back yard, but eventually, the poop would have to be picked up and I know for sure I wouldn't be able to do that," She sighed. "A bird seems to be the best choice. My last one died partly because I got so I couldn't see well enough to see he was sick and by the time my care giver told me he was acting different, It was too late. We tried. We rushed him to the vet and got anti-biotics but, he stopped eating and it was just too late. The vet said maybe it was because he was 18 years old and his immune system was weak, but I can't help feeling that it was because I didn't know soon enough. She sighed again. But, I just want a pet. I checked around. I found a place to get a baby bird and I want to go there and get one today. My plan is to explain to you and Donna what to watch for and then maybe It will be ok. It is young and they don't get sick often."
"What about if you lose the rest of your vision?"
Sigh. "I don't know. I'll just have to deal with that when the time comes."
Bob grabbed her purse and she got her cane and they headed for the car.
At the store, the owner directed them toward the cockatiels. Bob told her where the birds were as she reached in to try to catch and pull one out. One finally got on her hand and she pulled it out. She noticed it was plumper than she expected and wondered if it was older than the nine weeks she had been told. The owner came over and tried to catch one of the other two but they were flapping frantically and darting around the cage. She said we need to let them settle down some. Becky held and talked to the one she had caught for several minutes and then tried to catch one of the others but they still would not come to her. She sighed. “I think the bird chose me.," she said. They went to the counter and purchased the bird along with some fruit pellets and a cloth collar like thing she could fasten around her neck for the bird to stand on so it wouldn't mess her clothes.
At home they filled the water and feed cups, put paper in the bottom of the cage and put the bird in its new home. Everything seemed to be in order.

This was Becky's sixth bird so she knew it would not be unusual for the bird not to eat at first. She weighed the food each day and noticed on Friday the amount she was throwing away was still the same as what she had put in. She also noticed that the bird had lost a lot of weight. Before it had been plump and round. Now, its breast bone protruded significantly. When her other care giver, Donna, came, she asked if she saw any poop on the paper. 
"There are three little ones," Donna said.
"What color are they?"
"Very dark: Almost black."
They took the bird into the kitchen and weighed it on the talking scale. It was 3.1 ounces.
On Saturday evening, Becky walked into the bird's room and it came down to the feed cup and began pecking furiously at the food. It was making a loud, squawking, angry sound as it alternately pecked at the food and bobbed its head up and down. Becky had never seen a bird act this way before. She decided the bird wanted her to stay with it while it ate. But, why was it making that stressful unpleasant noise?
Sunday Becky spent as much time as she could with her bird but despite pecking at the food and making that disagreeable noise, it didn't seem to be eating much. She changed the paper in the cage using some blank white paper so she could see if the bird did anything. 

Monday morning the paper was as clean as when she put it in. Frantically, she called the pet store owner and told her what was happening.
“Wow,” said the owner. “She really bonded with you soon.”
“but, why is she making that noise. I have never had one make that noise and I don’t think she is eating. Are you sure she is ready to eat regular food?”
“Oh, yes, she is fine.”
Further questions gained no better information. Becky was still concerned and watched the bird carefully over the next two days.

Wednesday when Bob came she asked him to look at the food and see if he saw any shells. He looked through the seeds and came up with two partial shells but they might have been there to start with. There was no clear evidence that the bird had shelled and eaten any of the seeds. They went to the store to get some groceries and Becky bought a package of honey sticks for her bird. Back home she dug some old bird foods out of the vegetable crisper and asked Bob to read the directions and other information. They were several years old and even though two of the packages had never been opened Becky was not sure it would be ok to feed it to her bird. 

Thursday morning she called the manufacturer and asked about feeding the food she had to her bird.
“Normally it is ok to feed to your bird. It will not harm your bird but it will not have the nutritional value that it would have had before the use by date.”
Becky described how her bird was acting.
“I don’t know. The person you really need to talk to is Cindy. She knows all about birds. She is off the phone now. Would you like me to transfer you to her?”
“Yes, please.”
Cindy picked up the line and Becky described what her bird was doing.
“She is very hungry. She wants her mommy to feed her,” said Cindy. “What are you giving her?”
“I had some seeds left over from three years ago after my last bird died, and I bought some fruit pellets that the breeder said she had been feeding her. I mix them half and half.”
“Do you have any cereal? Something like oatmeal or cream of wheat?”
“No, I don’t like oatmeal and I’m not supposed to eat wheat. I have some baby bird formula that I bought three years ago when my last bird was sick.”
“Okay, let’s try that. Mix two tablespoons with a tablespoon of water. It needs to be the consistency of pancake batter or pudding.”
Becky mixed up some formula and following Cindy’s instructions, offered it to her bird. Her bird would not take it. Cindy suggested taking some of the pellets and soaking them until they were soft and offering them. Becky tried this but still her bird would not eat. The noise it was making got louder making it harder to hear Cindy. Becky’s heart sank. She remembered her first little bird and knew that if she couldn’t get this one to eat it would soon die.
“I don’t know what to do," Becky said pleadingly. "nothing is working. My bird refuses to open her mouth and she just keeps making that noise.”
"Don’t worry. We will get both of you through this.” She gave Becky some more things to try and assured her that everything would be ok. She also said she would send some things out to Becky and call her in the morning to see how things were going.
They hung up and Becky continued to try the suggestions to see if she could get her bird to eat.

Friday morning Becky started out by measuring out a tablespoon of the fruit pellets and putting a tablespoon of water on them. While she was waiting for the pellets to absorb the water, she went and got her bird and weighed it. Two point seven ounces. Becky cupped the bird in her hands and held it in front of her face.
"You have to eat. Why won't you eat? Please eat."
She picked up the cup of now soft pellets and carried them and the bird back to the bird room.
She offered the food to the bird but all it would do is squawk frantically and bob its head up and down while looking all around as if it was looking for someone. Becky concluded that it was probably looking for the person that had been hand feeding it for the first 9 weeks of its life. The store would be open today but not until noon. She tried calling Cindy back but was told she would not be in until noon. She tried calling the vet and was told she would have to bring the bird in for a physical exam. She went back to trying to get the bird to eat. Still no success.
The phone rang and she went to answer it. It was the garage calling to let her know her car was fixed and they would be bringing it to her soon. She gave him a credit card number, thanked him, and hung up.
Then, joyful news. When she returned to the cage and checked the cup it was empty. Had her bird eaten it or just thrown it out. She felt on the floor and checked the bottom of the cage. There was a little bit of something but not the volume of stuff that had been in the cup. She reached in and drew out the bird. "Did you eat it?"
The bird reached over and touched its beak to her nose. Smiling, she hugged the bird close and then put it back in the cage. She took the feed cup to the kitchen, washed it thoroughly, and refilled it with moist food.
When Donna came, she confirmed that the bird was picking up pieces of the food and was eating some of it.
Things were at last on their way. By the time Donna left at 6:00pm, all the food was gone. Smiling, Becky took the bird to the kitchen and weighed her again: 2.8 

Saturday
Back to square one.
That morning Becky prepared the food as before and offered it to her bird.
The bird came down and began to squawk loudly. It bobbed its head up and down frantically and refused to eat. Becky took the bird out and held the cup below the bird but all it would do is squawk and bob its head up and down. Becky tried picking up one of the rehydrated pellets and offering it to the bird. The bird continued to squawk loudly and would not open its mouth. 
At 10:23am, Cindy called. She could hear the bird in the background.
"She is still wanting her mother to feed her," she reassured Becky. "Sometimes it takes a while. Some birds are not ready to be weaned as soon as others. Take her out and stroke her head and feathers. Talk softly to her. Assure her she is loved. She will begin to associate the touching and love with food."
While they were talking the bird quieted down some and it seemed like she was beginning to eat. It sounded like the noise she was making was having to pass by food.
Cindy stayed on the phone with Becky until they were pretty sure the bird was eating and she assured her again that we would get through this. She promised to call again tomorrow and they hung up.
When that food was gone, Becky prepared some more an checked off and on through the day to see if she was eating. In about 6:00pm Becky decided to add some bread crumbs to the mix since the droppings sounded very wet.
The bird didn't eat everything but she had eaten about one and one-half tablespoon so she felt her bird was definitely going to make it.
She weighed her and she was at 2.9 ounces.

Sunday morning Becky felt more confident. She checked and the leftover food was still in the dish. She took the water and feed cups to the kitchen. After washing and refilling the water dish, she sat the food dish in some hot water to warm the food. Then, taking both dishes back, she took her bird out and let her perch on the hand that was holding the food dish. The bird began to quarrel and chirp as she dipped her head in and out of the dish. She was eating. After she had almost finished off all the leftover food, Becky took the bird with her to the kitchen and washed the dish thoroughly before preparing another tablespoon of moist pellets. While waiting for the pellets to be ready, she weighed her bird: 3.1 oz. When the food was ready, She let her bird perch on her hand while she held the cup. The food wasn’t as mushy as the bird liked it so she kept picking up pieces and dropping them on Becky's hand and some fell on Becky's lap. She picked them up and put them back in the cup.
"Stop that, Precious" she told the bird lovingly. "Hum. that's a good name for you. maybe I will call you Precious."
Cindy hadn't called yet and it was 1:26pm, but Becky was sure that everything would be all right.

[one possible ending]
On Monday, Becky overslept. The phone woke her up at 11:28am. She immediately thought of her bird and wondered if the delay in feeding her would make a difference. Fortunately, everything went well. She called Cindy to report the progress.
"Do you think the store owner knew what was going on and just wouldn't tell me?"
"I don't know. Usually places like that just hire teenagers so it is possible she just didn't know."
"This lady was probably forty. There was a man in the store with her and when we came they were at the front desk hand feeding some baby Quaker  Parrots. I think she is probably the owner and maybe the breeder. I hate to think it but I suspect she knew exactly what was happening and just wouldn't tell me for fear I would bring the bird back."
"That could be," Cindy agreed. "The birds are a dime a dozen and pretty much considered to be disposable."
"Well, I don't consider $124.00 disposable. I thought about calling and asking her, but I'm sure she would claim not to now anything As I said before, the length of life of each of my birds should be credited to the ones before that didn't make it. Thank you so much for your help. You have saved my bird's life."
"You're welcome," said Cindy "Don't hesitate to call again if you have questions or need any help."


[alternate ending]
Epilog
I don’t know if the person at the store knew what was happening or just chose not to tell me, but apparently not all birds are ready to be weaned at nine or ten weeks. The store owner told me this bird was nine weeks old. The bird books I have say ten weeks. Cindy told me that some birds are simply not ready to be on their own as soon as others. If I had not called the company about using the old feed, I would have almost certainly lost this little bird. I think back to my first bird. I bought him at a feed store and was told he was ten weeks old. I was working at that time and knew the bird wasn’t eating but had no clue what to do. I tell people that the longer survival of each of my birds is due mainly to what I learned from the previous birds. I bought this bird with confidence that I knew what to do. But it seems I still have a lot to learn about these very fragile and rewarding pets.