The house was quiet, but the air felt charged. I sat on the window sill gazing at hometree in the backyard. The window was open, and I felt the time for my departure was near. Fred was at the table next to the window drawing, not paying any attention to me or Mister, who lay in wait directly under me, tracking my every movement with a predatory gaze. I needed Fred to understand that if we were going to remain friends, Mister and I could not co-exist in this house.
I readied myself. I didn’t wait for an opening; I created one. As I took flight, Mister launched with lightning speed, claws out, catching me by my tail and dragging me downward for a terrifying second. I beat my wings with a desperate rhythm against the air until I finally broke free, losing a pawful of my tailfeathers in the process. I didn’t look down at Mister. I flew straight to where Fred was standing with a shocked look on his face. Fred didn’t reach out for me. He stood perfectly still, offering his hand as a platform. I landed in his hand, my heart hammering against my ribs. Fred’s touch was steady: the first truly honest interaction between us.
Fred needed to realize that I couldn’t stay in the house as long as Mister was lurking around. I looked at Fred, and we shared a silent, profound understanding, like a pact between two strategists who had solved a complex riddle. Fred nodded once, and with that silent permission, I turned and took flight.
The journey was short, the wind lifting me up until I finally reached the thick protective branches of my hometree. I was exhausted when I landed, but triumphant. Before I could even settle, I heard a familiar, grating voice that broke the silence. “You took long enough!” the raspy voice said. I looked up and seen Raven the Black perched awkwardly on the branch above me, struggling to keep his balance while gripping a half-eaten slightly-crushed cracker he must have stolen from a nearby picnic. Raven played his crest and tilted his head towards me with an air of superiority. “Are you back from playing ‘pet’ with the boy? I’ve been here for hours securing the perimeter, and by perimeter, I mean I found this cracker.”
I puffed my chest feathers up slightly as I hopped next to him then started cawing so hard I nudged Raven with my wing, causing him to squawk and flap frantically to keep his footing, nearly dropping his prize.
Thereafter, every evening, just as the light began to fade, Fred would be waiting on the back porch with a small silver whistle in his hand. He would blow a single sharp blast that would cut through the air. I would dive from the treetop canopy, soaring down to land on one of the chairs of the porch. We wouldn’t interact like human and pet. There was no cage, no command. We would sit in silence. I would preen my feathers while Fred read from his book aloud, and Mister stared at me hungrily from behind the window with his paws screeching down the glass. As the stars began to appear, I would give one final, sharp chirp, take wing, and head back to hometree, with Raven the Black inevitably squawking complaints about the lack of snacks in my wake.
