Ode to a bird

Nearly 7 and a half years ago, I was sent a photo in work. My hubby had bought two zebra finches, and named them Mocha (fawn coloured female) and Latte (white male). Mocha was his, and Latte was mine…

Latte was bought as a girl. He had no colouration, and could only “eep” – he didn’t have a song. As soon as I got home from work, I immediately said to Michael, “Latte’s a boy”. He had exceedingly faint coloured cheeks, and I could see that his beak was slightly brighter coloured than Mochas.

I gave him months and months of attention, singing my best male zebra finch song to him, and eventually he learned it.

Now Latte was a stupid bird. He truly was. He couldn’t sing (no male influences), he could barely fly, and he was so skittish. Whenever we let him out for a “wing stretch” (yes, we let him fly around the house), he would start ‘clicking’ and ‘eeping’, as if he was asthmatic. He would panic over nothing.

We lost him down the back of the Welsh dresser once… Pulling that heavy thing out was a nightmare, and I was terrified that Michael was going to accidently hurt – or even kill him.

About 3 years ago, we had to separate the birds. Latte had attacked poor Mocha, and almost killed her. The blood, cuts and feathers were unbelievable, and I honestly thought she would die… Thankfully, she recovered perfectly.

I bet you’ve got to the point where you’re wondering why I’m writing such a long post, over a bird? Well, Latte was the first ‘big’ thing that my hubby had ever bought for me. Latte died tonight. Rest in peace, my little man. You can now fly free ❤

Pets 0003

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