The escape artist

Budgies don't sing but a happily chit-chatter hopping around all the time chatting pleasantly very much like sparrows. A brain as big as half a pea a quarter as big as a chicken's but ten times cleverer. My brother had a pair of lovebirds but just before sunrise they start kicking up a racket you cannot believe.

Andy and Flo were my dad's pair when we were living in the flat. Andy was a boozer my dad taught him to drink from his beer mug until he then passed out flat on his back in the cage feet in the air.

Sandy was very tame a  beautiful completely yellow, I'd started teaching her words, the cat got hold of her she was never the same. It still haunts me that I didn't look after her properly but I know I am too hard on myself really I was barely a teenager and was neglected myself.

A niece's budgie was so tame she took it to school in her blazer pocket but she once fell asleep like that he didn't make it.

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Let's call him houdini the escape artist, a lively blue budgie he was trying all the time just to get out of the cage the only thing on his mind was breaking out.

He took every chance and devised ingenious plans like trying to get out through the feeding tray or opening the little door even tied fast with a bit of wire, until at last he managed to get away. The green one was at peace she seemed quite happy.

One evening as I was giving them food I turned 'round just a second and when I looked again he had disappeared we never found him. It was a middle winter night he must have died of cold. We don't know how he got out the doors and windows were closed.

For him free flight I believe was worth dying for, a bird is meant to be free and lived for the thrill of flight.
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My grandpa died of a heart attack in the grocery shop there by the shacks, by the sea, my grandma said he told her that morning he'd dreamt of a blue budgie freed from his cage and flying away into the sky.
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