I have never believed that birds can speak, because I bought a parrot at home before, and died silently. Once I accompanied my mother to see eye diseases, I unexpectedly discovered that a large flower and bird market had been opened opposite the hospital. I walked into a bird shop and asked a large row of mynahs, “Who can talk?” Unexpectedly, there was no movement in the bird cage, but there were “people” enthusiastically answering: “I Can talk!” “I can talk!”
This is really amazing! My mother immediately decided to buy one back. But I didn’t expect that Mynah’s worth was too high, and we could only leave with regret for the time being.
Later, my brother made a special trip to buy a young mynah back, and trained it to speak from the beginning. The first thing it learned was “Hello”, it was completely my brother’s baritone, and it was very gentlemanly.
This bird is called “Grandpa” and is the most charming. My father doesn’t love pets all his life, and now he is busy responding to birds all day long: “Grandpa!” “Hey, Grackle!” “Grandpa!” “Hey, dear!”
The best sentence it said was also “I can talk”, and the sound it made was round and round like an announcer.
His mother taught it to recite a Tang poem: “Chun Mian Dawn…” The Wren cut corners into “Chun Mian Dawn”, and his tone was to chant, so his mother had to agree to shrink Meng Haoran’s five-character quatrains.
This bird is a bit mischievous in its bones. I don’t know when it learned a Nanjing accent from my brother-in-law: “I want to eat!” The word “fan” is pronounced as “put”, so I often hear it triumphantly. Loudly declared: “I want to eat and let go! Eat and let go!”
Once, I was lowering my head to add food to it, and it looked at me for a moment, and suddenly said, “Ah, have you eaten it?”
This bird is undoubtedly the treasure of our family, and it is the darling of my mother. Once, the babysitter forgot to close the birdcage after feeding, and the wren left without saying goodbye. My mother stood on the balcony looking through her eyes and refused to return to the house during a nap. At this time, the unit door of the building opposite was opened. A lady came out to walk the dog, and saw her two big dogs come out, one of them plunged into the bushes on the side of the road, their tails shook desperately, and then one of them A black thing popped out.
My mother yelled, “That’s my bird! That’s my bird!”
After miraculously lost and recovered, the Wren soon returned from panic to the original well-dressed and eloquent.
My mother later had kidney failure and fundus disease due to diabetes. Whenever she needed to go downstairs, my father would push the wheelchair and I would carry the birdcage of the wren. As soon as we took a walk in the garden of the community to find a bench to sit down, the Grackle immediately started its “language show” loudly and tirelessly. At this time, there were more and more adults and children in the community. Everyone kept marveling and laughing, causing the Grackle to take the “people madness” in the bones to the extreme. Of course, it was undoubted that the mother was happy, and she laughed with tears. Flow out!
Our neighbors downstairs wanted to raise a mynah too. They said, “Raising birds is more interesting than raising dogs-dogs don’t talk to people.”
Unexpectedly, with the death of my mother, the Grackle became reticent. Later, it seldom made a sound and ate less and less, and finally appeared to be unable to stand still one day. I took it out of the cage and hugged it in my arms, wrapped it in a blanket to warm it. It leaned its little head on my chest, its eyes closed slightly, and it fell asleep comfortably. That night, it slowly hardened.
In the cold days, my brother drove it to his mother’s cemetery. He dug a hole in the frozen soil and buried it at his mother’s feet.
The grackle was taken away by my mother.
