A Wired Cage

The sun rays shone through the glass door, warming up the old retriever that lay on the rug. Another quiet afternoon behind a wired cage slowly went by as I rested my head on my partners downy white feathers, wings perched, and eyes half way closed. Two newly laid eggs, white and speckled, were buried underneath my breast for warmth and protection.

I could smell the new seeds that had recently been carefully poured into my feeding tray, right next to my water dish. Standing up on my two legs quietly, so as not to wake my partner, Jonah, I covered the eggs with some bedding and jumped toward the dish, wings desperately trying to fly to make the trip quicker. They had been clipped when I was a new born, before Jonah and I came to live with this new family, and even though I’ve spent my years wishing I could fly, I knew that it would never be possible.

Slowly nibbling the seeds and listening to the clock tick, I looked over at Jonah who lay motionless in his spot. He had been sick for the past two days and had been ignoring his food and water. I was excited for the children to see their father once they hatched, for I knew that Jonah would make the perfect dad. After eating I went back to my spot to baby-sit the eggs, took a deep breath, and shut my eyes. Life seemed to go by quicker when they were shut.

I awakened to the familiar sound of chattering in the next room. This time however, the voices sounded gloomy which was unusual for their normal up-beat tone. My eyes focused on a familiar face as it came up and stared into the cage, their lips were shapeless and eyes were squinted. With their wrinkled hand, they opened up the wire door and stuck their arm in. I flapped around nervously and looked to Jonah for support, but this time he didn’t move a muscle. The hand grabbed him gently and began pulling him out of the cage. I felt an uncomfortable feeling of confusion, wondering why he wasn’t moving. Instead, he just laid there, almost lifeless.

Then an unfamiliar feeling crept over me as I sat on my eggs. A feeling that made me so cold, I almost felt it was unsafe to be sitting on my babies.

The hand took Jonah’s body over to an unseen place in the room. From there the owner of the wrinkly hand carried a small box out doors, with the old retriever following. As the sun went down, I had a gut wrenching feeling that I would never see my partner or feel the warmth of his feathers again. The clock appeared to tick at a slower pace as the long night assured me that I would be alone within the bars of this wired cage.