The feelings of a parakeet. Farewell my beautiful prince.

I remember exactly three years ago I was walking very fast on my way to work (like every day), and just a block away from it, in front of a family building I heard the shrill and loud cries of a very angry hen fighting with her pecks and kicks over what seemed to be a small chick, and I swear I was scared and petrified by the scene.
Clearly it wasn't a fair fight, so I rushed as fast as I could onto the grass and shooed the bullying hen lady away with a scream.
When I managed to focus on the assaulted subject in the weeds I realised it was a small parakeet.
It was alive, and still fighting for its life, but it was missing a leg.

I had never had anything like it in my life, apart from dogs and cats in my house there had never been a bird, so I had no idea what I was going to deal with, but that was the least of the problems, I was deeply shocked by the fate of the bird that just a few seconds before was almost annihilated and now, moreover, was in my possession with one less leg.
Evidently there was no time to lose, I took it in my hands and brought it with me, at first it was a little frightened, it made gestures to bite me, but it was visible that it didn't have much strength to resist.
I wrapped her in a small towel and put her in a small box in the office until I could take her away later, I gave her water, which she drank with incredible eagerness, I offered her grains of rice but she hardly ate them, I stroked her head and spoke to her with great affection.
We stayed like that all morning, and just at noon my workmates passed by to see him and ask what was needed to support him, all very attentive to the parakeet, however I began to notice that he did not accept anyone else touching him, he even threatened to attack with his little beak, to everyone, except me.
I think I checked the parakeet from head to toe a hundred times, it had a strange combination of colours, yellows, browns, oranges, even its crest of yellow feathers seemed to survive, it was not bleeding anywhere, everything else seemed stable and functional, no doubt I was deeply shocked by the bird.
I took him home, and my Chloe kept a sneaky eye on me, I gave him a sniff to get him used to it, because obviously I was going to take care of that bird.
I was glued to him all the time, his box went with me to every room, a hundred eyes were not enough for me, I gave him lots of pellets and cereal, but he ate little, but water as much as I offered him.

The budgie in its box, being cared for and loved.

I remember that I began to notice that the parakeet would not let me out of his sight, and when I stroked him and stopped stroking him, he would take my finger with his beak and bring it closer to him so that I would not leave or simply continue stroking his little head, that gesture of a bird asking for a caress was something really strong and exciting for me.

Do birds develop feelings for people?
How can an unknown being inspire love and appreciation in such a desperate situation?

The bird was undoubtedly suffering, and at the same time it was aware of the help that a person unknown to it was giving it in a moment of total hopelessness.
I think we have underestimated the intelligence and feelings of many species.
Of course, the fact that I didn't know about it until that moment doesn't exempt me from guilt, maybe many do, maybe a few do, but I just want to share with you what I experienced with a bird.
Later I found out that in that building, in that same entrance, there lived a boy who bred them for sale, on his balcony, in a very small and cramped space he had the cages, and there the process took place: the breeding, the fights, and the deaths, and in all of this, there was also the selection of the best and most attractive ones, and the death sentences for those that did not meet the standards of beauty.

Sad yes, a sad process.

I'm not going to be thinking all the time about what goes on inside a laboratory of white mice... otherwise I would have very few hours to sleep.

Luckily today there is no more on that balcony the breeding centre, but I think I hear the sound of many birds in an area close to the building.No doubt the business goes on.And it is not that I am against the business, but, against the methods of the business.Maybe I myself bought a budgie from him one day.

The places from where the parakeet was expelled, and found.
It is possible that there is a better breeding centre at the back of the building.

As for the 🐦 he didn't make it, he had a lot of infection in his broken leg, and the rescue didn't happen in time. In the end I have to thank the hen who fought with him, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to offer him the security and love he needed in his last days.
Sarcastic, isn't it?

The truth is that in that same street I have already had two ugly experiences, a cat in a rubbish dump and a very abused parakeet.

If my society were more organised and complied with all its laws, I am sure that the value of each species would be much more respected.

Do you know what I consider to be true success in life?
When you feel that you are doing something that truly contributes to society and not to yourself.