Way too close

[sora no tori]

I got a scare yesterday that taught me a lesson I'll never forget. I live in an apartment, and up until recently I had a roommate. When you have a flighted parrot, and another person in your living space who can come and go at anytime, you are always ready to grab your bird at the slightest hint of a sound. It wasn't an ideal arrangement, but because I knew her schedule, and kept Conrad within grabbing distance at all times, and double bolted the door when he wasn't, I managed to keep this up for a whole semester. When my roommate moved out, I foolishly became more relaxed about these measures. When I came back from visiting my parents over Christmas, I found my apartment soaking wet with water stains on my wall. The maintenance guy assured me that this would require some spontaneous visits from him to repair. So, I started double bolting my door all the time to make it so that he could only come in if I let him and Conrad was already secure. Well my carpet dried, and two weeks went by without anything being done to my walls. It's not uncommon for maintain projects to fall by the wayside in my complex (I can't wait to move out), so I think little of it, stop noticing the stains, and stop expecting the guy. The door was still double bolted when he finally showed up. I let him in, and took Conrad into my room while I waited for the guy to paint. Two hours go by, the stains aren't that big, and I know he has several more apartments to handle and therefore would be unlikely to waste time. What's more, I know Conrad has to poop, and his perch is in the living room. As I'm walking down the hall with him perched on my hand, the voice of reason starts to bombard me with messages of caution: "what if he's not gone yet?," "what if he left the door open?" I idiotically dismiss these fears. First of all, he is probably not still here, and even if he is, why on earth would he leave my door open? It's winter and thirty degrees out. Well, he was still there, and he did leave my door wide open. I don't have time to do more than mentally register the open door that Conrad flies off of my hand and goes straight for his training perch. I scramble as quickly as I can toward the door, breathing every profane word in my repertoire. He moved my table, so I had to reroute and get around that, and when I finally reach the door, I pant and cuss and berate myself for making such a costly mistake. Turns out the guy was on his cell phone this whole time, and he turns toward me and says very nonchalantly, "Sorry about that. That could have been bad." It briefly occurs to me to get mad at him, but I stop myself. It was my fault, the person responsible for the parrot, not the guy whose job it is to paint my wall. When I look over at Conrad, he's got his head cricked to the side in a questioning manner trying to figure out why I am so wound up. He does his business, and flies to me when I approach the perch, then I take him back to my room and do not take him with me when I check an hour later to see if the guy is gone, which he is. I've been so paranoid and so careful, that it shocks me that I would make such a stupid mistake. No more. All caution, all the time from this day forward. Too careful, never results in escape.

[laducockatiel]

Very close call. Hopefully you will learn from your mistake and never let someone leave the door open, I dunno if I could live with myself if I left the door open and my parrot flew away. Keep well,

Regards,
Laducockatiel