A not so tiny, canary shaped hole

My mother called me just now.

Our canary died this morning. Granted, I didn’t see him for the last 6 years, but I remember when he came into my family’s life.

I recall getting ready to sit down at the dining table when there was a sound from the kitchen. Something had run into our screen door with a large thud. My mother opened the screen door and a yellow canary flew into our house. It perched at the top of one of our bookshelves and started chirping in a somewhat agitated manner.

It flew around the house for a few hours, from perch to perch, before finally deciding that the corner bookcase was where it would like to stay. We kept our bedroom doors closed for a couple of weeks, and the canary had full rein of the house. We left food and water out for it, and it left little reminders out for us. We were cleaning quite a bit, and my mother was exasperated that it couldn’t just find one place, “to go poo.” We always knew where it was, as it was most definitely a songbird. Sometimes, it sounded impatient, but most of the time, it sounded like it was just happy to be where it was.

We put up some posters and talked to our neighbors about the canary. Two weeks passed.

When no owners appeared, I had to fashion a rudimentary trap composed of some string and a clothes hamper. After we managed to get it in a cage, we brought it to a vet and made sure it was healthy. He (we found out) passed with a clean bill of health, and we decided to keep him.

I named him “Windfall,” and he became a member of the family. We’d leave the radio on for him to chirp at, and he’d always sing more whenever one of us was in the room. He was cute.

He had been sick the last few months, and visits to the vet and the medication were only doing so much. This morning, my mother found that he had passed at some point in the night.

Since he was already singing when he decided to enter our house, that means he was at least a year old. I’d place him as around 7 or 8 years of age. Canaries can live up to 10 years.

I feel bad that he’s gone, and my parents grew quite attached to him after my brother and I left the house–but I’m glad that my parents were there to enjoy his company and his song for the last 6 years.