Ever since my mother's car accident almost two months ago, I have been taking care of her pet doves. I have never had birds before nor have I ever wanted to. Sure, they're pretty, and sometimes they make a nice cooing sound, but you can't hold or cuddle or walk them, and they don't greet you at the door or come when you call, nor do they fetch things or do tricks or lick you affectionately or give you a big goofy smile with their tongue hanging out the side of their mouth. And boy, can they make a mess. So all in all, birds have just always struck me as being a lot more trouble than they are worth, essentially decorations instead of pets, and not nearly as much fun.
So why, then, do I find myself baby-talking these doves when I take the sheet off their cage in the morning? And why did I buy them a little extra birdie treat on our last visit to the pet store? And why do I find it endearing when they come to the bars of the cage and look out expectantly at "dinner time"? And why did it put such a big smile on my face when one of them jumped on my arm the last time I put my hands in the cage to tend to them?
My mom has been talking about how she thinks she is simply not up to caring for birds anymore, even once she has returned home. I hope she changes her mind, because I think they have been and will continue to be good for her. But if she doesn't, I would like to state for the record that I am not keeping these birds.
I'll say it again: I am not keeping these birds. Please feel free to remind me of this post in the future.
To see a picture and learn more about diamond doves, click here.