So, the other morning began just like any other day. I was cleaning up the kitchen from breakfast and enjoying the beautiful new day with my back door wide open. As I cleared off the kitchen table I saw something out of the corner of my eye move. I turned back and looked at the ground to find a bird sitting on my kitchen floor. My first instinct was to freak out and scare it out of the house, but after a second look I realized that this wasn't just any old bird, it was a parakeet. So, instead I quickly closed the back door and called Dave to inform him of the exciting news. I then spent several panicked seconds running around my house looking for something to catch the bird that was flying from my floor, to my fridge, to my table, in. My first attempt to catch the impostor was with a laundry basket. (FYI birds can wiggle through holes that appear much smaller than their bodies.) My second attempt was with a tightly weaved basket. Success!
Now that I had caught my intruder I had no idea what to do with it, so I went and took and shower.
I began to talk myself into keeping the poor little fellow as I felt that he had chosen us and we couldn't just throw him back outside. Later that morning I found myself at WalMart, and then at PetsMart buying a bird cage (WalMart is apparently the people's 'Mart' as it had no birdcages).
When I got home, I got his cage all set up and ready for him to enjoy (I really have no idea if he is a girl of a boy but will continue to call it "him".) I was so proud of the home I had made for him, when suddenly I realized that in order to get the bird into the cage I would have to reach my hand under the basket, grab the bird, and then lift up the cage door and shove him in, all the while being pecked to death. This idea frightened me way too much until I chickened out and went next door to ask my neighbor to do it.
My neighbor and his friend came over and attempted the task I was to chicken to do (I felt like such a girl.) Of course, the second they tried to grab him he flew out from underneath the basket and all of the house. We spent the next five minutes chasing him down and finally catching him with a pillowcase. We had to stuff the pillowcase inside the cage and slow drag it out. I felt so bad for frightening the little guy and was pretty sure that he would be traumatized for life. But once he found his food I didn't feel quite so bad. The poor guy was starving! He eat for a solid 15 minutes and then fell asleep, so I really feel like I saved the poor bird.
So, that's how we came get a pet bird that we now lovingly call Jack.