experience and therefore be tended to, treated kindly and observed. Household pets became common, including birds.
As I read the descriptions of the Mozart family's likely relationship with the bird, including cage-free frolicking when no visitors were around, I realized exactly why this book was in my hands. The anniversary of my dad's passing is next week, and he, like Mozart, kept a bird. A bird who sat on the edge of his breakfast plate and ate scrambled eggs while leaving poops on the newspaper. A bird who slept cuddled under his neck, occasionally checking his mustache and nose for interesting artifacts. Dad was a big fan of Mozart, and Jujube and my dad likely listened to Mozart while drifting off together in the chair, dad draped with a huge beach towel (or poop catcher).
When someone we love passes, it is hard to mentally place them anywhere. Something about this book (fully researched, full of philosophy and classical music) seems so dad-like. The vision of him sitting in a salon with Mozart, each with their bird shadows busily exploring from the safety of their shoulders, clicks with me as where to visualize him now. There is peace and a wee bit of closure in this thought.
And now let's enjoy another human's pet starling, Stella, as she talks, whistles and blows kisses: