Durachi turns 10 today. We never really knew what day he hatched on, specifically. But we know it was a day in March, and the tenth seemed as wonderful a day as any for the cutest bird in the entire world to make his appearance. Today, my baby turns ten years old. Ten years of this little goober living his best birdy life. Almost ten years of him nestling his way into my heart so deep until there is very little room for anything else.
Ten years.
Gee, I feel old.
I always get the same response whenever someone finds out about Durachi. “You have a bird?!” Almost like this is something weird and exotic, and they have to repeat it before the truth finally sinks in. “I do!” I say, and try not to let the manic gleam in my eye show how very obsessed with this particular bird I am. Unfortunately, the ten photos of him appearing photogenically majestic that I then throw into their faces without warning is enough of a tell that there’s something slightly unhealthy about our relationship.
Some people are dog people. Some people are cat people. Most of these people find it difficult to see through the eyes of the other. And then there are bird people. Bird people are people of a different breed entirely. We spend a small fortune on tiny toys with tinny bells and wake up in the morning to “hi, buddy!”s and “whatcha doin?”s and angry squawking if we leave the room to brush our teeth. We hoard seeds and pellets in our freezers and wrinkle our noses at toys that scream “TOE HAZARD”. We learn how to whistle and have sung “if you’re happy and you know it” more times than we can possibly count (even stranger when you do not live with a human child). We are obsessed with anything feathered, have intense allergies, and usually own an air purifier or two in the hopes that it will keep the dander in check. (not to mention we know when the Spring Molt has arrived. hint: the Spring Molt has arrived in our home.)
We buy bigger cages only for them to be deeply despised due to the sheer size of it (can’t say I blame him) and then have to find alternate uses for the darn thing (or just get rid of it entirely). is anyone in the market for a giant bird/small rodent cage? We know how to kill moth worms in the double freeze. We have a small collection of baby feathers and crown feathers and wing feathers and cheek feathers because those are the cutest feathers of all.
I think it’s safe to say that dog people and cat people have nothing on us bird people. We are a different level of crazy. A sort of manic obsession seen only in the likes of LEGO enthusiasts and serial killers. A bird isn’t just a pet. It is a lifestyle. Everything shifts and changes and coalesces around this soft little creature who is stubborn and sweet and quirky and smart and so awkwardly wonderful.
For the past ten years, Durachi has been my bestest friend and my constant companion. I can’t imagine my life without him–I don’t want to imagine my life without him. It’s not every day a girl finds the one bird person who makes her whole life feel like magic, but mine was gifted to me at the age of 15, and he just so happens to have feathers.
Happy hatchday, my buddy. You have made my heart complete. ❤
talk to me, peasants!
what kind of “person” are you? dog? cat? bird? do you spoil your pets rotten, or are you normal?
Mackenzie K. Writes 
Talk To Me, Peasants!