A small amendment.


After listening to Toby contact call every bird she hears, whether it’s an actual bird or one she hears through my speakers, I’ve decided she will not be my only bird. Birds are social creatures, and, as much as she’s bonded with me, I’m not another bird. She’s lonely for her own kind, and I can’t do that to her for the rest of her life.

The bird store I get my supplies from happens to have two linnies, a male and female that used to be a breeding pair but are now kept separately. Linnies are semi-flock birds, i.e. they get along better in smaller numbers, and only with their own kind; trying to get them to flock with different kinds of birds usually results in a dead bird, regardless of what “the Internet” says.

So, come next cheque, Toby will have a lovely green girlfriend. I’m not sure how old she is — I think I was told around 2 or 3 years old when I was there last — but the site now says all their linnies are seniors, and some company for a while is better than none. If nothing else, it’ll give me time to work on getting another from Toby’s breeder, if I can.

I try not to be so sunk into my own bloody misery that I drag innocent things down into the mire with me. I try.


This is Toby.


She’s helping.

She’s really helping.