Quasimodo and I

Its strange how one can remember so many little things that happened in one's life when younger. I was just sitting here now, remembering a little bird that made such a big difference in my life! He taught me so many lessons, but most of all he brought me joy and I loved him so much.

I found him one day on our porch, lying in a big bag filled with wood shavings. He had fallen from his nest and he looked so forlorn and lonely that I just had to take him in and care for him. I found a box, put an old knitted jersey into it and also my favourite stuffed animal. He was so small, had no feathers at all and couldn't have been much older than about two weeks. He looked so ugly and yet was so adorable that I couldn't give him any name other than Quasimodo.

From that first day on Quasimodo went everywhere with me. I took him with me to town and went to the library with him. On these excursions into town I would take a very small little box with me, with a sock folded into the shape of a nest, so that he could stay warm. And I would take his food with me in a syringe and feed him every two hours. It caused quite a stir in the library the first week but after a few days all the librarians would come up to me and ask me how it was going with Quasi.

Quasi, naturally, enjoyed all the attention immensely and would even put on a bit of a show for the children who would come and peek into the box at him. When it was very cold I would put on a rollneck sweater and let him curl up against my neck to keep warm. He would be very reluctant to climb out into the cold box after that and I used to have quite a few wriggling sessions trying to get him out! Needless to say, that also caused a stir ~chuckle~
I mean, just imagine it. You see this girl walking around in the library and next minute she's wriggling and talking to herself about not tickling and being good! Yep, it sure did make heads turn :)

As Quasimodo got older, his first little feathers started appearing. I was thrilled when his baby fluff was replaced by the beautiful feathers of a growing swallow. Swallows have always been my favourite birds and being able to raise one from a baby was a privelage and a blessing for me. I watched in amazement how he lost his gangly look and started putting on a bit of weight. His feathers turned glossy blue black and the markings around his eyes became more prominant. He truly was becoming beautiful!

He was also becoming progressively more cheeky as the weeks passed by. In the evenings I had a huge problem making him stay in his box instead of jumping out and onto my bed. I would put a lid over the box but he would become so frantic that I was afraid he would harm himself.
So I would turn over onto my stomach, drape my arm over the side of the box and let him curl up inside my hand and go to sleep. It was the only way he would sleep.

I, on the other hand, didn't get much sleep at all because it was very uncomfortable to lie that way and I constantly had a stiff neck and sore shoulders. No matter how little sleep I got, though, I couldn't bear the idea of him being unhappy or hurting himself, so I would fall asleep each night with Quasi curled up in the palm of my hand.

One evening, after an exciting day in town, I couldn't get him to calm down and settle in for the night. He wouldn't even curl up in my hand, but kept on trying to fly out the box. That day he had just discovered that if he flapped his wings real hard, he could get a few feet off the ground and move forwards. Now he tried that tactic out with me and I just couldn't get him to stay in the box. My mom came into the room and told me that I had better let him up on the bed so that we could all get some sleep. She said that my "mother's instinct" would stop me from rolling over in the night and squishing him. I was still hesitant because I really wasn't sure if I could keep from rolling around. I always did! Eventually I couldn't ignore little Quasi's cries any longer and so I picked him up and let him snuggle up against my neck, where he was happiest.

After ten minutes of chirping softly into my ear, he finally closed his eyes and drifted off into birdie sleep. I lay awake as long as I could, petrified that if I fell asleep I would move around and squish him. Later on I drifted off, unable to keep my eyes open any longer.

Around about 3am the next morning I awoke with a start. I couldn't feel Quasi by my neck anymore and when I switched on the light I became really worried. I gently pushed my duvet aside and sat up...and then I saw him.
I couldn't stop the tears from flowing as I looked at him, so peaceful now. He must have crawled down under the covers sometime during the night and although I hadn't turned over, he had got caught up in the duvet and must have suffocated. I was totally devastated, crying while holding him close to me, rocking him and speaking softly to him, even though he couldn't hear my voice anymore. I sat there for more than two hours, crying and rocking his silent form.

Around 5am I went outside to bury him. I didn't have anymore tears to cry, my heart was dreadfully heavy! He had trusted me and I had let him down. Yet I knew that I couldn't have not let him sleep by me that night.

It is years later now, but I still remember it as if it were yesterday. Quasi had a way to make you feel special and needed. True, he was only a bird, but he knew whenever I was sad, or ecstatically happy, he knew when to climb onto my shoulder and chirp in my ear, he knew when to turn somersaults to make me laugh.
He truly was a miracle and a great blessing in my life and I will never forget him!