To the editor:
Anyone who has known me for 10 years or less, has been introduced to my writing partner, Rikki. Rikki is a 10-year-old Nanday Conure (miniature parrot). My wife, daughter and I raised her from one week of age and, for the most part, our relationship has been one of love, wonderment, and respect for her species. One of my songs, a tune called “All She Wrote” is registered with the songwriters association BMI under the names David and Rikki Beckom. She nods in appreciation when the tune is going well and she screams like a cat shot in the butt when she does not care for it. We have come to appreciate and trust each other’s opinion.
With this background in mind, imagine our emotional distress last Monday when a momentarily ajar door proved to be too much for her to ignore. In a moment, I watched my friend fly away. She did this with the grace and joy I had come to expect from her. She flew straight up, did several loop-da-loops and headed for the nearest stand of trees and her expectations of freedom. As she disappeared into the trees, I had the oddest thought; my friend has not said goodbye.
Day and night passed as we hunted for her. We left her cage on the porch, opened and illuminated, hoping she would find her way home before the elements or the huge hawk, that slowly circled the area where she had last been seen, could cause her demise. We even went to the house where we lived when she was a chick in hopes that some avian synapse had fired, sending her in search of a memory. Our search was to no avail and our calls went unheeded. By the fourth of July we were preparing to move her cage to a storage shed.
Then the phone rang.
State Rep. Jackie Lundeen and her family were preparing to sit down to lunch when a bedraggled, hungry, and emotionally overcome parrot landed on their fence.
Jackie, a friend and visitor to my home, recognized Rikki immediately. Quick thinking, a Lundeen family trademark, kicked in as Kelly Lundeen lured the tired aviatrix into a cat cage with a strawberry. As soon as the call came in Kari and I rushed to their house to find my friend making friends with all the Lundeens and smelling overwhelmingly like strawberries.
It was hard to tell who was the happiest, our family, the Lundeens, or that travel weary bird who had used the power of the State Legislature to find her way home.
Thank you Jackie and family from the bottom of our hearts.
David, Gayle and Kari Lea Beckom
Mars Hill