When I was very young, probably six or seven years old, my parents got a couple of birds and hung a birdcage in our family room where the birds lived. I remember when they first arrived in our house being very excited about having them, but to be honest now I can’t even remember their names.

I believe there were just two birds, but what type I couldn’t say now. I would guess my parents remember, though as it isn’t particularly important to the story, we will just keep it at birds in general.

We had the birds for some time; I think I even got to help feed and water the cage, though I doubt I did this very often.

One day I noticed that one of the birds looked funny, not quite right, but being small I don’t think I mentioned anything about it to my parents. I do remember that the bird looked strange for some time and I began to accept that this was simply the way the bird looked all the time and became used to the idea.

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On several occasions I noticed that the strange looking bird seemed to be watching more than it used to. I know I spoke to it when passing the cage and I remember it responding with soft tweets and chirps.

On one bright and sunny day I came into the living room where my parents were reading quietly and saw that the strange bird was no longer in the cage, but sitting on top of a bookshelf. I don’t remember if I thought this was wrong, but I do remember knowing it was out of the ordinary. I walked over to it and spoke to it and the little bird answered and fluttered its’ wings.

I remember my father giving me an odd look. He asked me what I was doing and I explained I was talking to the bird. I believe he returned to his book because I don’t think anything more came of it.

Soon after that day my parents sat me down and explained that one of the birds had died several weeks before. Even as they spoke I remember seeing both birds in the cage, resting calmly as though nothing in the world was out of the ordinary.

At the time I doubt it ever occurred to me that I could see spirits of the dead, or that I was in fact seeing the bird who had passed.

In later years I would recall these memories and have my parents explain a few things. One, why they took so long to tell me and two what exactly my father thought I was talking to on that sunny day by the bookshelf. The answer to the first was that they were hoping I would notice and come to them, that this would somehow ease the shock. The answer to the second was that my father understood I could see things from time to time and wanted a chance to speak with my mother alone before bringing anything up. You see now how the second event triggered the first.

When we spoke of these events, my parents and I, I explained that not only was the bird around on the day they told me it had passed, but for quite a long time after. Being young it is difficult to mark the time in actual dates, but I can remember the little bird hanging out on the bookshelf as long after as the following holiday season. I can still see it watching me as I opened gifts from under the tree. I have been informed now that this means that what I was seeing managed to linger for at least seven months.

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I can’t recall when I stopped seeing the little bird, or when it went away. I honestly can’t even recall when its’ friend must have passed on as well and the cage was removed from the general scenery of our home.

What I do remember, quite clearly is watching the two birds interact. The living one clearly still saw or felt the presence of its’ friend and I know that long after I had been told that only one bird should be in the cage I used to find it comforting that the two still had each other.

Though this certainly wasn’t the first of the paranormal events that would be a constant in my life, it was the first experience I can recall with an animal ghost, or at least so I came to believe. In the years that followed I would have a better idea of what was seeing, but for that time, it was nice just to know that friends never quite lose each other.

Goodbye for now, another end.
Until a time we meet again.

-Seline