I sat, car idling at a long stop light, the last one before I got home, kicking myself for being so gullible and for buying a neglected bird for full price:
I didn't want a rescue.
I didn't want a bird that I had to "fix"
I didn't want a bird that other people had neglected
I didn't want to pay full price to fix other people's problems
I didn't want to deal with the anger, the bites, and the screeching
I wanted a bird to love
I wanted a bird to keep from ever experiencing harm
I wanted a bird to bond with.
But then I realized, as my new friend started picking her little bits of bird-dust delicately off of my arm, her little feet nice and toasty on my arm...
She didn't want to become a rescue.
She didn't want to be broken
She didn't want to be neglected
She didn't want to bounce from home to home
She didn't want to be angry, bite people, or scream in terror.
She wanted a person to love
She wanted to live a life free of harm
She wanted a person to bond with.
And by golly, I am going to give that to her.
I didn't want a rescue... but she didn't want to become a rescue, either.