It proved no simple task to pin the blame on anyone. The children, dashing off to the river, had forgotten to shut the parrot in his cage. Later, when Grandma returned from the village shop, she flung the window wide open. As a result, when evening came and we went to look for Freddie, our handsome Amazon parrot had disappeared into the great unknown.
Three days and nights we scoured the garden estate, ignoring all else in our frantic search for our lost bird. But it was hopeless. Nobody had seen Freddie. The children wept, leaving streaks on their cheeks; Grandma wrung her hands, sighing Oh dear, oh dear; meanwhile my husband and I took out our frustrations by laying blame first on the little ones, then on the seniors.
Even our trusty Airedale, Mickey, seemed lost in gloom and could barely be coaxed to bark at anyone. She lingered in silence, only coming to life with a brief flurry when the doorbell rangdashing to the hallway with a hopeful yelp, freezing mid-bark as if she realised how hollow it sounded, and then slinking back to her bed. For four years, guests to our home had always been greeted by the raucous chorus of our dog choir. Freddie the parrot could mimic Mickeys bark so perfectly that, at times, one would swear he outshone Mickey herself.
Freddies first attempt at parroting had been barking. As a fledglinggreen in every sensehed terrorised our tabby, Molly, with his act. Hed creep up behind her and let loose a raucous bark right in her ear. Molly would leap up with a mighty miaow, which, in turn, summoned Mickey at full tilt, setting off a cacophony under our roof.
Molly endured Freddie, although at times she seemed truly put out. Mickey, however, genuinely adored our bird. Freddie was often spotted perched on her headquite literallyas he scolded her in a uncanny imitation of Grandmas voice:
Whos going to finish this porridge then?
And, after a beat worthy of a West End actress, hed add reproachfully:
Were not keeping pigs, you know!
Mickey would usually ignore him, just as the kids ignored Grandmas remonstrations. Once in a while, when Freddie became too much to bear, shed give him a nudge with her rough tongue, sending him fluttering.
The truth was, for every family member except Molly, Freddies disappearance was a real heartbreak. After a fortnight, resigned to our loss, rumours started to swirl through the estate: a new, brightly green crow with an unmistakably red face had joined the mob that roamed the gardens, strutting with a cocky attitude. This audacious fellow didnt just cawhe could bark and, apparently, curse in the most shockingly human way. That last detail nearly destroyed our hopes; true, our family might know such words, but wed never utter them aloud. But then we reasoned: out in the wild, perhaps our feathered genius had picked up a few choice expressions, much like Molly might catch fleas.
So, re-inspired, we renewed our search for the run-away pet.
It was another ten days before fortune smiled. Bent over the vegetable patch, I heard a familiar voice:
Well, whats this then?
There, perched on a cherry tree among a gang of black-feathered mates gorging on fruit, was my little Freddie.
Freddie, love, do come herelet Mum give you something tasty
Freddie cocked his head, pondering.
Freddie, weve all been missing youDad, Sophie and Michael, and even Mickey. Come here, darling
Stretching out my hand, I edged closer to the tree. I almost managed to touch the branch, but
You lot, always up to no good! Freddie jeered in the imitating voice of our garden committee chairman, before fluttering off with the rest of his feathered band.
And so, Freddies life of freedom continued right until the winter frosts. He appeared near the house now and then, but would never let us coax him back. Each time we reasoned and pleaded, he simply croaked philosophically and flew away on his own terms.
Come late autumn, people began spotting Freddie alone more and more often, huddled and forlorn on the fence or in the bare treesyet still refusing to be caught. Then we brought in the big guns: Mickey. What she said to her feathered friend, Ill never know, but Freddie strode back indoors with his head held highriding proudly atop our ginger dog.
