This probably means a lot more to me than it might to other people. I have a tiny green bird named Seamus, and when I say tiny, I mean he weighs no more than two ounces. Every day we have a routine. Every morning my mom gets up around 9:00 and lets him out of his cage and refills his food and water. Then around 10:00, the two of them come and help me out of bed. My mom has to help me with some stuff in the bathroom, so while we do that, Seamus sits on my shoulder and tries to kill my toothbrush and my hairbrush and the cloth I use to wash my face. One of his many nicknames is Murder Bird.
After we take care of that noise, I need help with the toilet, and since I can’t stand on my own, my mom has to pick me up (it’s a good thing I’m tiny). While we’re doing all of this Seamus climbs around all over me. This morning however, I had a near panic attack. I didn’t realize how far down on my back he was, and I leaned back into my wheelchair too quickly and almost squished him. He’s totally fine, but it scared the crap out of me, and I cried about it, admittedly, a lot.
After we were finished with all of that we went down to the kitchen, I calmed myself down and we all had lunch. Then my mom had to go out, so Seamus’ options were to hang out with me or go in his cage. He decided to hang out with me. He took a nap snuggled up close to my neck, and now he’s preening himself on my shoulder. I was super worried that he’d be mad at me or scared to be on me. I’m finding that the forgiveness of a tiny two ounce bird really means a lot.
Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!