Dirtbag Writer

An Ode To Little Orphan Frank

Posted on 12. Mar, 2010 by Writer in On Living

Plans are shaping up for the summer months – plane tickets are getting bought, guidebooks are being perused, cutie beach dresses are getting tried on, and I’ve started worrying about what the hell I am going to do with Frank.

Frank is a bird.

About a year and a half ago a co-worker of mine was enjoying her morning coffee on her porch and heard a little tweet.  She looked up from her paper and there was this little cockatiel sitting on her fence.  She walked over to the bird, stuck her finger out and the bird hopped on.

Having a weak spot in my heart for orphaned animals, I agreed to take Frank in while we searched for her owners and well… we never did find them and then last week I almost lost her.

Frank in Thoughtful Reflection

You see birds are prey animals so they typically don’t show any signs of illness or weakness until it is too late, which means by the time you figure out your bird is sick they are already knocking on birdy heaven’s door.

Frank was sleeping a bit more than normal last Thursday, but I thought nothing of it.  I spent the afternoon working at the library and returned home to a quiet house.  Frank typically freaks when she hears the turn of the key – but I opened the door and heard nothing.  She was fluffed up in the corner of her cage and something just wasn’t right.  I opened the door to her cage and she didn’t come busting out like usual.  I offered Frank her favorite treat and she just turned her head away.  I took her out and placed her on my shoulder while I googled what to do.  And that is when she projectile vomited onto my laptop and I freaked.  I called the first bird vet to come up in the google search and they told me that she needed to see a vet stat.

Even Birds Need a Little Love

Had I not been attentive and noticed changes in her behavior it would have been too late.  Frank got to the vet just in time and with a shot of antibiotics in the belly was nearly back to her old self the next morning.

The image of little Frankie hurling on her perch while I rush her to the vet all the way across town (in rush hour during a snowstorm of course) just breaks my heart.  Tears were streaming down my face as I begged her to hang in there and reassured her that everything will be ok.  It wasn’t until that moment that I realized you could actually fall in love with a stupid little bird.

Who knew that a bitty bird could have so much personality.  Frank absolutely hates bluegrass music but loves reggae beats.  She likes taking baths in the morning but steers clear of water in the afternoon.  She loves noodles, shoelaces, bubble wrap and all forms of corn – popcorn, corn on the cob, and especially corn chips.  She can hear me open up a bag of chips from the other room and then she loves to dive bomb me to score some bites.

Yummy Popcorn

It pains me that she is a bird trapped in a house – that she will never find bird love, have babies, or know what it is like to hang out with the flock chilling high up in the trees.  Sometimes I wish she was a dog…

I am trying to give her a good life – she gets lots of treats, head rubs, and as much freedom as I can offer.

As for where Frank is going to go when I am traveling all summer, I have no clue.  I’ve thought about trying to find her a new family, driving her to my parents house in Wisconsin, or hoping that one of my friends will offer to take her (but most of them have other animals that would eat Frank or they get totally freaked out by birds).  I do entertain the fantasy of taking Frank along on camping trips, setting up a screen tent, and letting her enjoy a bit more freedom.  Oh what to do?

Hmmm Wrapping Paper

What do you do with pets when you travel?

Tags: Frank, Pets