On the wings of love

For two years, I had the privilege of working with the likes of Larry Bird, Snoop Dogg, Madonna and Oprah. And of course, I almost forgot, Elvis (I was at his deathbed the day he passed away due to drug overdose).

Well, I am neither a Hollywood publicist nor an entertainment writer for CNN. But I did work overseas as a pet shop attendant.

Larry was one pesky Cockatiel Parrot who could be very sweet during feeding time but would sometimes love to bite my skin so nastily that I’d scream. Snoop Dogg was a Terrier that looked so deceiving, like the skinny but toughie rapper. One bite was all it took to completely erase anyone’s first impression. Madonna and Oprah were the two remaining cats in our shop that never had any offspring. The only Tom in the house was bought even before he was able to "propose" to either of the two bachelorettes. (If ever we had kittens then, I would have named the pair Tom and Katie.)

Elvis was a Golden Retriever who looked like the silver screen’s Airbud. He died after he contracted an unknown disease. But I believe it was due to the different drugs that we forced him to take.

They were just a few of the animals that I got to interact with every day in our simple and friendly pet shop located in the small captivating island of Saipan. If I continue to tell you about each and every creature in our place, I might end up writing a book instead of an essay. There is still the cute family of Bugs Bunny and Roger Rabbit and their little ones, the hamsters, the guinea pigs, and different kinds of fishes and birds.

And speaking of birds, I can’t help but remember the pet that I really had fun with during my two-year stint abroad (I tell you, when you are working hundreds of miles away from home, it really helps when you have something to do to overcome homesickness). I talked, I walked, and I even ate with my favorite pet. It could climb walls through curtains though it was not a monkey. It could jog with you along the pathways, but it was not a dog. It preferred eating with spoons though it had trouble lifting a toothpick. And the cutest thing it did was the way it played and cuddled my ears. It tickled me to pieces.

His name is Ibon, a lovebird that I raised since it was just a two-week- old nestling. I called it Ibon because I was not sure of its gender when I got it from our bird farm. I got the idea of getting it out from the nest when my boss told me that a tamed lovebird could cost as much as a hundred dollars. If ever somebody bought it, we would share the profit.

And so, I was a baby bird-sitter for more than a month. The first two weeks were forgettable because I needed to feed Ibon every four hours. That meant I needed to wake up during the middle of my sleep just to hand-feed it with powdered bird food. And if ever I forgot chowtime, it would drive me nuts with uncontrollable chirping. I brought Ibon with me everywhere I went. From the beach to the movie house, from a basketball game to the Internet café, I carried Ibon in a special bird cage just to make sure it would always eat on time.

Some thought it was quite a hassle to carry a bird everywhere I went. Not really. I got to meet new friends because of Ibon. He was such a magnet, most especially to girls. One time, while sitting in a park spoon-feeding Ibon, a group of teen Russian girls sat beside me to watch what I was doing. One looked like Ana Kournikouva, mind you.

One more exciting thing about raising a bird is that every feather that appears brings a satisfying feeling. What more if it shows a new trick like picking up objects, mimicking your whistle, or biting the fingers of a stranger who tries to hold him (yes, it’s a trick). One good thing about lovebirds is that they are very loyal and affectionate. The moment they find a partner, they will remain as partners for as long as they live. And since I was the one raising Ibon, I was his partner.

After more than two months, Ibon grew up to be a nice-looking green bird. His feather was so shiny and you could really tell that he was indeed a male. Female lovebirds’ tails appeared to spread while Ibon had a pointed one. My boss told me that we could sell Ibon for $100. It sounded good because that meant that I did well in raising Ibon. But at the back of my mind, a voice told me not to sell him. He had become a part of my daily rituals and very close to me.

One day, while clipping the wings of Ibon, a tall American came into our shop looking for a pet for his daughter. I suggested rabbits and hamsters, but he was thinking of getting a pair of Parakeets. He asked how much it would cost him to buy a pair, along with the cages and accessories and food. I couldn’t remember the exact amount, but it was almost a hundred dollars. Then for some reason, Ibon flew and rested on the head of my customer. I was surprised because it was the first time that Ibon allowed himself to have contact with someone else other than me. I was thinking, I might have scared Ibon when I clipped a portion of his wings.

I apologized to the American who burst out laughing because he found the incident funny and cute. He asked me the name of the bird and got a bit surprised at with my reply. He told me that his wife passed away a few years ago and her name was Yvonne. I told him, the name sounds the same as Ibon and was just actually the literal translation of bird in Tagalog. The man paused for a while and I could see goose bumps on his arms. He told me that my bird reminded him of his wife. He asked me if he could take a picture of Ibon just for a souvenir. I agreed and he took a few shots using his digital camera. The man left our shop along with the computation for the cost of a pair of Parakeets.

My boss came to the shop at lunchtime and I told him about the American customer that I had a couple of hours ago. She just smiled. I stroked Ibon’s feathers before I left to eat at Subway, a few blocks away from our shop.

While eating, I was gathering the sesame seeds from my bread for Ibon. To my surprise, Ibon was no longer in the shop when I got back. The American guy bought him for $75. I was stunned. I did not expect that it would be the last day that I’d ever see Ibon. The only consolation was that I got $37.50 as a commission. I know it’s cheesy, but I got teary-eyed. Maybe, I just missed Ibon.

From that day on, I was never interested in raising young birds the way I was when I got a very fragile two-week-old Ibon. I am back in the Philippines for good and I still keep the sesame seeds that I got from Subway.