Straight No Chaser

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nothing wrong with loving an iguana, nothing at all. i loved a cockatiel, loved him purely and desperately and for the entire time we were together. we shared a birthday, he was my sixteenth birthday present and so i just decided february tenth was his birthday, too. cody, i called him, because cockatiels are native to australia and it seemed like an aussie name. he was brilliant, in a little over a year he picked up "jingle bells" and "pop goes the weasel" and the opening bars of "i'll remember april." brilliant bird, much friendlier and less attacksome than the other one, the older one. dad left the garage door open one day, and he flew away, under the most miserable weather circumstances imaginable. i couldn't sleep all that night, listening to the rain, thinking about how cold and wet he must be, out there. even now i tear up, thinking about it. a little afterward, we got a new one, a baby, so the remaining one wouldn't lose his health to grief. cody looked exactly like the other two, gray and yellow with giant orange cheeks, but he was special. baby's special, too. doesn't matter. that's just how it is. nothing wrong with loving an iguana, or a bird, no matter what anyone tells you. you can't really explain it, about a pet. a first pet. sampson will be remembered, and missed.