Rushing up the path, my nan, Iris, was waiting.
”Here’s the keys honey, have to rush as the girls are waiting for me. See you Tuesday and thank you for house-sitting for me.”
In a whirl, she was gone. Opening the patio doors, glorious weather, sunbathing for me. Five days of rest and relaxation on my own. Bliss. Wandering back inside after a few hours, my attention was caught by the birdcage rocking as a cat darted past. With my heart in my mouth, I looked into the cage. Nothing. The door wide open, no Bobby the budgie. Knowing how much the bird meant to her since my granddad died, tears welled up and I sank onto the sofa crying.
Don’t know how long I sat there sobbing. The evening was closing in when I lifted my head. Next morning the sorrow had turned to panic. Two days of turmoil followed as my mind raced around, thinking what to say when Nan rang. That evening when she rang, my heart was in my mouth. I just couldn’t tell her.
Now I had one hope: find another bird-like Bobby and hope she wouldn’t notice any difference. Searching the internet, I came to realise it would be difficult as old-style pet shops didn’t exist any more.
Finding a breeder was my only hope. They were all over the country, and just one in the next town. Phoning, I was so tearful the poor man took pity on me and had a budgie to match Bobby, but I couldn’t have him until the Tuesday the day Nan came home.
Tuesday arrived. Up and ready, I cleaned the house from top to bottom, then raced off to collect the bird, praying that it was close enough to Bobby. It was. Back at home, I placed the bird in the cage, fed and watered him as Nan walked through the door.
Walking into the room, tears filled her eyes.
”My darling girl thank you. You’ve bought me a new bird. Poor Bobby died last week.”
As she hugged me, I glanced at the patio doors. There sat the cat. I swear he winked and poked his tongue out at me.
