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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short story I wrote for a competition a couple of years ago about Cheeky, a pet budgie we used to have. Some of my memories of him written after he died.

Submitted: March 01, 2007

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Submitted: March 01, 2007



I don't think I'll ever find another friend like Cheeky.
He was a bright yellow budgie we brought when I was in about grade 2. He was more than a pet. He was a part of the family.

He did a lot of funny things. When we let him out of his cage, he would do laps of the kitchen. He seemed to like the taste of the blinds. The bite marks are still there. He also liked having a bath; and having wars with his 'Cheeky Bird' (his favourite toy).

He was funniest when he tried to talk though. His first words were 'cheeky bird'. One phrase he had a lot of trouble with was 'oh you cheeky cheeky budgie, cheeky cheeky budgie we love you' to the tune of 'chitty chitty bang bang'. He always said 'we oh we' instead of 'we love you'.

I took him to a pet show at school and he won 'Best Kept Bird'.

At one stage, his cage fell over while it was outside. He escaped. We spent the rest of the day looking for him. As we were about to go back inside when my dad found him! Cheeky sat on his shoulder all the way back!

I wish that everything could have stayed like that.
One day, near the end of the year when I was in grade 5, Cheeky started to become sick. We weren’t really worried though. He had been sick before. We took him to the vet. The man there found out what was wrong with him and gave him an injection. We took him home with some medicine for him. When we arrived at home, I started making a 'Get Well' card for him on the computer. My mum and dad came into the room, then went back out several times. I started to think that something wasn't right. Finally, my dad came in and said in a shaky voice
"I don't think Cheeky's going to make it."
Time seemed to stand still. I hurried to the room where Cheeky was. He was lying on the floor of his cage. My dad had gone to fetch my sister. We sat around his cage, encouraging him to get up.
He died with us all around him. Telling him we loved him.

Sometimes at night I think of him. Wonder what would have happened if he had lived.
It still brings tears to my eyes.

© Copyright 2018 MyraSwift. All rights reserved.

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