Time and Punishment

Gloomy day in the land of Jiggy.

AdventureBoy, who wants to be an ornithologist, has two cockatiels. One, Silver, he’s had for several years. Hand-raised, it was a very sweet little creature. I didn’t like birds before encountering Silver; they seemed alien and unfriendly. Silver was approachable and liked being around people.

The other bird, Bronco, was a stray they rescued. He’s more fearful, and thus more defensive when approached.

AdventureBoy developed a bad habit. After he was supposedly in bed, he’d sneak up and put Silver in bed with him, say, on the pillow or headboard.

His mother told him not to do it.

AdventureBoy persisted, because he liked being with his bird.

And today, he’s paying the price. Sometime last night, Silver was crushed while AdventureBoy slept.

The ex-Lady Jiggy called me in tears this morning, saying how angry she was at the Jigglet. It took a little while for me to get the sad story. She said she didn’t know what she was going to do with him, how could he be so careless, and how sweet the little bird was.

My job was to listen, and maybe, speak calmly to her. And then to the Jigglet. He was in tears, saying “I’ll never forgive myself.”

Ah, kid. Welcome to adulthood. Where there are consequences to everything you do or avoid doing.

He wasn’t being cruel or malicious. He might have been indulging in the fantasy of bonding and being with his bird at all times. But that fantasy, following that fantasy, killed this sweet little cockatiel.

I’ll be going by the house tonight, after work, to try and comfort the kid. I won’t suggest any “punishment” to his mom. I’m sure he’ll feel bad about this for a long time, and he'll punish himself far more than we ever could. I’ll work to make sure he learns from the experience. It will only become a mistake if he repeats it.

In the larger scheme of people losing their homes and livelihoods, not a major story. But a sad day, none the less.