Sister Rain’s Note:
In 2015, I published 9.5 parts of “Piper & Me: A Love Story.” Beginning in March 2024 I reposted them weekly. I have since written new chapters and will continue to do so. If you would like to read any of the parts, type “Piper & Me” in the search bar.
The days and weeks began to add up, with not much improvement in Piper’s demeanor. I am sure there was some, but when you are in it, you cannot always see it. I would get up 15 minutes early every morning, opening up the mansion door then tentatively but with confidence – this is an art, I assure you – offer a finger for Piper to step up on. He would now do so, but more than half the time the dismount from mansion door to finger involved a chomp. I was consistent though, those quarter hours happened without fail during the week. I was still working the temp job I had taken when my mom was diagnosed with cancer since the company I was employed by as a corporate meeting manager was unable to allow me not to have to travel. I was looking to return to my career, but the time off the road at a 9-5 job 20 minutes from home was important to the new relationship of Piper and me. I had concerns about the impact my going back to frequent travel would have on us. Even with the continual need for a band-aid, I could not wait to get home after work to spend the evening with Piper. I missed him already when we were apart.
We were a long way away from knowing what each other was saying, me with my English language, he with his own form of communication of chortles, screams, squawks and clicks as described in the story, “Squawking The Same Language.” The great equalizer, play, did not offer much interest from Piper’s perspective. I would make a fuss like you would with a child, only to be met with ignoring me or attack mode, mostly the former. He did not want the fresh fruits and vegetables I prepared for him, nor the famous birdy cake most parronts know of. It was difficult to have my advances rejected at every turn, yet I knew this was a marathon, not a sprint.
There were moments of cuddles up against my neck, while I forced myself to relax despite the fear of a vampire bite at any second. As much as I wanted Piper to trust me, I distrusted him due to the unpredictability of his behavior. The photo at the top of this story is the first we took together, twelve years later I remember being afraid he would turn around and bite me.
I will fully admit that it was also hard not to make comparisons between Piper and our first bird, Cato, whom we purchased at a pet store at 3 months old. The two are not the same species of bird, plus we obviously met Cato when he was very young with no history or baggage to contend with. Unfortunately, I still could not shake it.
Time, as it does, moved quickly, the speed at which days and weeks passed far and away exceeded the progress I made with Piper. Our first two months together flew by, the next 30 days would do the same. And then one morning I opened my eyes to total darkness.
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