Cheeps

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The story of Cheeps begins on July 4th, 2018, when my mother, on her way out the door to work in the morning, returned in a hurry and deposited a tiny baby robin in my hands.

She had been waiting at the bus stop across the street, and had noticed the baby and an adult robin sticking close by. Unfortunately, a woman was approaching with a big dog on a leash, and someone's cat was following them! My mother panicked for the little bird's safety, and made the decision to scoop it up before one of the animals got to it. She then brought it back across the street to give to me so I could figure out what to do with it, because she didn't want to miss her bus.

At this time in my life, I was in a very dark place, mentally. Being handed this tiny creature and finding myself suddenly responsible for it's wellbeing dramatically changed things. At this time we had already rescued a robin and a mourning dove, so we were familiar with baby birds, and knew somewhat what to do for them.

Cheeps was a little fighter from day one. Like most robins, he was a hardy little creature and had a huge desire to live and thrive. I bonded with him especially, though in my ignorance I completely misgendered the poor little guy. We got so used to referring to him with female pronouns that it was terribly hard to break ourselves off of it once we realized the mistake, particularly because he'd earned the nickname "Little Girl" and "Little Boy" just didn't sound right to us.

We had him for two years, but towards the beginning of 2020 I started to get ill. By the time winter came, I was at 50% lung capacity. I was diagnosed with Bird Fancier's lung, and the prescription was clear: the birds had to go.

At this time we also learned that keeping these birds was highly illegal, and we were lucky to escape prosecution. We surrendered them to a wildlife rehabilitation center in a neighbouring city on December 4th, and that was the last we saw of them.

I recovered to 80% lung capacity within two months, much to my respirologist's astonishment, but I can no longer be around any kind of bird or feathers, or it could prove fatal. We don't blame our feather babies, though. We will always love them with all of our hearts, no matter what their final fate, and that is why I made this memorial dragon of my little Cheeps.

He gave me reason to live when I had none, and when I needed to be reminded yet again that life is precious and shouldn't be squandered, he left.