I have my dogs. My daughter has her cats. My cousin, Lanier, did not have a dog or cat to keep her company. She had a finch.
She enjoyed her bird friend as much as others enjoy their four-legged animal friends. She would take the finch from the cage and talk to it as it perched on her finger. The little bird chirped back to her. The finch rode on her shoulder as she walked around her house. She enjoyed her finch.
One afternoon when the bird had been out of the cage, she went to retrieve it and return it to its home. She could not find the finch. She walked through the house calling to the little bird. No happy chirps responded. She systematically searched each room. She began to fear her pet had flown out the open door when she went into the yard. She made another sweep through the house. In a panic, she went outside and scoured the yard looking in all of the bushes and trees. She did not find the finch. She began checking the neighborhood. She feared the finch had flown away and gotten lost. She did not allow herself to think one of the neighborhood cats had feasted on it. Finally, she gave up the search. She went back inside and dejectedly stared at the empty cage.
She missed her bird. Sadly she put the cage in storage.
Months later, Lanier opened a little-used storage closet. Something fell off a shelf when the door opened. She looked down to see what had fallen. The finch was at her feet. She gently picked up the dead bird. There was no odor. It was completely mummified.
She brought the cage out of storage and decorated it. She attached the finch to the perch and hung the cage in its earlier position. She had her finch back.