Watch my life unravel...



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Local Directory for Ottawa, ON


I'm not cut out for this

I sold two baby birds yesterday. I had such mixed feelings about it. It’s not like I wanted to keep them – frankly, I’m feeling a bit overrun with birds these days. I was relieved that the bird population was dropping from nine to seven. But I felt so sad for them, being taken away from their brothers and sisters and going to live with total strangers.

Not only that, but I wasn’t crazy about the stranger. I ran the ad online, and this woman responded. I was asking $75 per bird, or $125 for two birds. She asked if I could give her a better deal. I told her I’d give her two birds for $75. I also offered her a second-hand cage for $50, which was exactly what I paid for it three weeks ago. She agreed. The next day she asked if I’d deliver. I said okay. Then she wanted to know if I’d throw anything in, like food. I said okay. Then she asked if I’d take $60 instead of $75 for the two birds. At this point I put my foot down and said no.

You know how people say “It’s not the money, it’s the principle of the thing,” but usually it really is the money? Well, for me, at this point, it really was the principle of the thing.

And I was feeling bad for my baby birds, who I was sending to live with this cheap, greedy woman and her run-on sentences and ugly email address.

Late yesterday afternoon I picked two little birds out for her, and gave them their last hugs and kisses, and moved them to their new cage. I put a coffee box in the cage for them to snuggle up in. I picked out a couple of toys from my toy stash for them. I was feeling very, very sad – not for me, but for them. The only thing that made me feel any better was knowing that at least they would have each other.

When it was almost time to put them in the car, I broke down and cried, and GC hugged me and said a bunch of encouraging things.

We drove them out to Bayshore, to this woman’s house. I’m pleased to report that she made a better impression in person than she did through email. She seemed more mature, and warmer. She was East Indian and she had a mother, and children, and a dog. A big family. Lots of people to love the little lovebirds. She’d bought food and a swing and toys for them. She asked all the right questions. She was okay.

I felt much better about leaving them there after meeting her. But I still don’t think I’ve got what it takes to be a bird breeder. I’m probably going to worry about them for the rest of my life.

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