How to Be a Tough Old Bird

When we first met, he was young and feisty, but with a softer edge than others like him. I could tell he was different, but I didn’t want to let myself get too attached. I tried to pass him off on a colleague, but it was too soon after heartbreak for her, and she sadly turned him away after only one night. The ball was in my court. I had a decision to make. With reluctance, I accepted my fate and I became the caretaker of one small green companion I called Scooter.

Scooter is a Quaker parrot. Twenty-five years ago, when I was working in a bird rehabilitation center, he came to live with me against my better judgement. At the time I was single and getting used to a new city while living in an efficiency apartment I shared with a bad-tempered cat named Samantha. I had no room, no time, and no need for another pet. Yet the alternative (let’s not sugarcoat this — death by lethal injection) was unacceptable to me. I just couldn’t put down this healthy, yet unfortunately disabled, little bird.

Scooter was found on the street running away from some kids. His wing had been badly broken and had healed in the wrong position. He would never fly again and his damaged wing would always droop just a little. In accordance with Florida state law, Scooter could not be released into the wild because he was an invasive species — not that he could be released anyway, with his damaged wing…