TWEETY

As a child (and even now) my baby brother always had a soft spot for animals. He would befriend chickens and goats my parents bought and beg my parents not to kill them. Back then, he would go to our store, sneak out a handful of rice and go to feed the homing pigeons that flew into our compound so they’ll like him enough to stay. He even went further to keep sugared water for them because someone at school told him doing so would make the birds stay forever (which was downright ridiculous to me and a bit alarming). This child loved animals (especially birds) so much that one time he started imitating the cries of chicks.

Why?

So a hawk would fly down and he’d catch it and make it his pet🤦

One day, Emmanuel’s love for birds panned out and he caught a bird. Now if you know me well, you definitely know that I HATE animals especially birds! I’m a firm believer that anything with fur, fangs or feathers has no place in a human household. So naturally, I was averse to the idea of having a bird in the house talk more of being put on a roster to ensure the bird’s comfort. Emmanuel was beside himself with joy which was odd because there was nothing special about his feathered-friend. It was just a regular, brown, sparrow-like bird. We named the bird Tweety and the first thing Emmanuel would do once he woke up was to check on the damned creature. Eventually, I caught the enthusiasm and went to see Tweety once in a while (from a safe distance. of course). At first, the stupid thing was aloof but finally, he warmed up to my brother’s coos and dreamy stares and even started answering to “Tweety” with the cutest little chirp.

After some time, I noticed something about Tweety; no matter how much bathing water we left, he didn’t look as neat and as dapper as when we found him. Though he (I’m assuming it was a male. I’m not an ornithologist) got pleasingly plump and happy, he looked a tad disheveled than normal. Dad (another animal person) told Emma that he had to free Tweety because birds like him didn’t do so well…