See that profile ID, that's Mike.

There is a reason I chose the name "MikeDavins" instead of my name "MattDavins". Here is the story.

About 5 years ago, I adopted my first budgie. His feathers were green with yellow wings. A small but energetic little bird. He had no fear, he had no hate, he only loved the people around him. It's only been like five months, but even thinking about Mike chokes me up. This is why I hardly go on vacations anymore, either my companion comes with me, or I stay home with him.

In the summer of 2008, I was allowed by my parents to have my own pet. I would have to buy the pet, its food, water, shelter, and give it baths. Well I was a kid, so months of saving got me only $100 dollars. What pet + essentials could I afford with that much cash? A parakeet and I knew that, I've been reading Parrots for Dummies, preparing for a bird of my own. The cage was ready for one of them to have a good home.
The parakeet I chose was a young, male parakeet. His feathers were typical, green body with yellow wings. I was expecting the bird to fly out of the box it came in and stand motionless on the bottom of the cage for hours. The book said would happen for birds’ outta the box. Well it flew out of the box, but it didn't hide in the corner of the cage, he perched next to the food, and began eating and chattering happily. I was so joyed when I saw this happen; I just said "Yeah, I'm calling you Mike". My parents question me giving a bird that name, and I was joking too, but it just stuck. Ironically, Mike made me more human that I was ever before.

I learned that all life, no matter how small or pointless, is still a sentient being. Mike was small, he didn’t contribute much to anyone, and he just was a bird that sang. To anyone else, he was just an animal, but for me, he was my companion. He never feared me; whenever I came by he jumped onto the wall bars and shook his head. It was so funny and sweet that he even showed affection towards me. Of course when I hand tamed him; both Mike and I had an amazing time.

Two weeks into me being Mike's guardian, I decided to hand tame him. What I did during the two week was feed him millet through the bars, and let him nip me fingers. When I opened the cage, Mike was in the middle perch. He stared at me, giving me a "What you doing?" head turn. I showed him the millet, and Mike looked at it, he wanted to chow down on it badly. The thing was, I had it just out of his reach. In order for him to get to the millet, he would have to jump on my hand and perch from there. He just kind of danced on the perch for a little while. Around three minutes of me offering the millet, he leapt onto my hand, and began eating. I nearly choked up right there, he either totally trusted me to the point of eating calmly on my hand, or he just loved him some millet. Mike was now able to get out of the cage, and could fly anywhere he wanted. I knew he was ready to enjoy what life I could offer him.

The routine every day for Mike and I, was I got up from his chattering. I went to the living room and took off his cage cover. I opened the cage door to refill his food bowls, while I did this, Mike stood aside just looking around, singing away. A while later I opened Mike’s cage and brought him out to fly around the house. His favorite spot was the suspended plant, he tore that plant up after a while, and he sang with joy while doing so. He also perched on the couch, the wooden hat rack, and my shoulder when I was glued to the couch, watching a movie. He would always get close to my ear, and squawk, telling me "Hey, enough of the movie! Let's do tricks!" I only taught him how to hang upside down, lay on his back, and say my name, sometimes "Dad". I thought I fun would never end, of course it would, and in the most annoyingly, awful way possible.

When my parents said we were heading down south, I didn't want to go, it's boring. Nothing but underage drinking and cricket music. They brought up the point that those drunks and musicians were our family. They wanted to see us, but they can't come over, so we had to go visit. I said "Okay, but I'm bringing my bird." to which they said "He wouldn't be able to come back, the guards would think they'll bring back diseases"

I guess they were family, so I would go. I had to find a pet sitter for Mike though, and the cousins here are totally not trust worthy. Hell, half the pets they had ran away. I went to what I thought was the most trust worthy cousin, he was the same age as I, and was just as stable as me. He said yes, and I kept telling him "Every day, feed him, let him out for a while, and then put him back in his cage." He said okay. I told him I'd pay him good money for doing it. He swore to keep him safe. My parents also reassured me that Mike would be fine. I guess I had no choice; I was okay with the setup. When I gave Mike a goodbye pet to the head, he looks up at me, and chirped. It was night when we headed off to the south. I put him in his cage for the night, told him goodnight, even left millet there for him to eat, and put the cover on him. Leaving the house with him there for two weeks with a pet sitter, I still felt uncomfortable at the idea.

Two weeks passed, down south was nothing but what I thought it was. Sure it was nice meeting family, but coming back home to Mike would be the best thing ever. Entering the house, I didn't hear Mike.. I went to his cage, saw his cover still there. I lifted the cover, didn't see him, I saw his food bowl, nothing but empty seeds, his water bowl, dirty beyond belief. The millet completely devoured. The cage was never opened; it was only when I looked at the dark, bottom corner of the cage did I see him. Not singing, moving.. breathing.

My god, do I miss Mike Davins.