My blog buddy Debra over at Homespun suggested I add a new category to AmaraLand and share some of the memories of my childhood with Amara. In her words, “what happens is that by the time our grandkids want our history we are either dead or have dementia.” This is my first post under the category Memories FOR Amara.
My sister and I grew up on a fifty-acre farm in a small town in Michigan. I must have been about 2nd grade and I remember we’d had a typical Michigan thunderstorm with lightning and hard rain. Shortly after the storm stopped, we heard what sounded like a baby crying outside. Daddy went out front to look around and came back carrying a little baby blue jay. My Dad always loved bird. This one had been blown out of its nest by the storm and the mother was nowhere in sight. I remember thinking “My Daddy saved that little bird.”
Over the next few days, Dad built the most amazing cage for that bird in our dining room. It was a large as the table, which we seldom used for anything but Dad’s train set! We all fell in love with Fluffy and I think Fluffy fell in love with all of us. My sister and I learned to feed him bread soaked in milk. I can remember feeding him extra milk from a large eyedropper, too. He would fly around the house when we let him out and land on top of the curtains or on top of our heads! He loved to sit on our shoulders and ride around. He would fly to your finger if you placed it out for her to land on. He loved to be petted and when he was very content, he would coo and fluff out all of his feathers—hence his name. All the neighbors knew about Fluffy, other kids would come over, and he would happily perch on their fingers too. He was completely domesticated. My sister and I even had our pictures taken with Fluffy and they printed a story about it in the local newspaper, I wish I had a copy of the article.
In my mind, we had Fluffy for about a year before Daddy decided we had to let him go. Even after they let him out, he stayed near the house and sat outside in the two big maple trees that were next to the driveway. One day we just stopped seeing Fluffy — but we certainly never forgot him!
This is not Fluffy but a beautiful picture taken by my friend Sarah at sannechristian. The picture certainly reminds me of Fluffy who loved to take his bath!