A toucan can be a spokesbird for Froot Loops.
A parrot can recite the lyrics to “Margaritaville.”
But it takes a Macaw to speak the full truth.
Even as a kitten, Macaw would not read anyone else’s lines.
We would have loved to have cast him as a little brown dove, purring in the palms of our hands. But our newcomer had the old soul of a falcon, and he was proud to be a flight risk.
Perched on the edge of “the age of socialization,” Macaw was too little to go it alone, and too feral to let us wrap him in our wings. He protested his own rescue with tooth and claw. He cawed sharp words, unbefitting a kitten the size of a crumpet. He cringed when we dared to call him “cute.”
He was not “cute.” He was formidable. He was inimitable. He was majestic.
He was Macaw, and he would speak for himself.
A kitten who fancies himself a bird of prey is at risk of falling from the family tree.
Unless, of course, we’re talking about the Tabby’s Place family.
When faced with a kitten who knows his worth, the better part of talking is listening. So, we leaned in. We let Macaw squawk.
He shared his opinion that humans are oversized earthworms with the combined intelligence of sponge cake.
He growled when we proved his point by singing to him.
(FYI, Macaw does not appreciate the song “Tutti Frutti.” Macaw does not think the lyric “tutti frutti on the rooty, tutti frutti ON THE ROOTY!” is the highest and best use of his time.)
He glowered like a buzzard when we told him we loved him more than all the swans in all the storybooks.
He told us, in no uncertain terms, that he was not a parrot.
He was not a puppet.
He was not going to love us just because we were bigger birds. And, by the way, Big Bird creeps him out, although that Oscar guy seems OK.
But Macaw was so full of truth, he just had to overflow. In the presence of cats, his own cheerful chirp gave him away.
The aloof eagle had a heart laden with love. He was smitten with Salem. He melted for Magpie. He kneaded his paws into the nearest feline like the best nest under heaven.
He had a wider wingspan than his razor-billed words let on.
Macaw was made of love.
As the twigs of toughness dropped, we heard a kitten who felt as fragile as an egg. We promised him we knew how that felt.
We are just a bunch of fledglings, too.
Finally, he let us pet his downy fur.
Meanwhile, down the hallway, another strange bird was searching the skies.
Jericho, adorable and (extremely) aggressive, was generally content in his private suite with our Director of Operations. But at times, he had the doleful eyes of a lonely owl.
Someone named @JerichoTheGlorious mysteriously started tweeting things like “NEED KITTEN” and “SEND SMALL TABBY OR I WILL EAT YOU ALL.”
Could these two truth-tellers be birds of a feather?
Most friendships take root in the soil of time. Shared interests and serendipities grow slowly.
But once in a while, two kindred spirits recognize each other at once, soul-to-soul. A tree of life springs up in an instant. So it was with Macaw and Jericho.
With no opening ceremony, the two tabbies took to each other, and immediately began taking care of each other. “Nice to meet you” led directly into “I need you like the ocean needs the moon.”
Although Jericho would fit in with ocelots on the Serengeti, and Macaw could fit inside a Froot Loops box, the boys are equals. They are inseparable, yet utterly individual.
If someone made a decorative figurine of Jericho, it would look like Macaw. If someone makes fun of Macaw, Jericho will “decorate” them.
But even Jericho has been gentled by his midlife miracle kitten. In the nest of each other’s love, the truth grows wider, wilder, and lovelier.
There is even room for the mystery of the mandible.
Just around the time Macaw’s song softened, we became concerned about a small, thickened area on his jaw. This swiftly took over the entire left side of his mandible.
Fearing something sinister, we assembled a flock of dental specialists, a radiologist, and the birds of paradise known as our own vet team. Extensive testing yielded no explanation. We are left to monitor the mystery, airborne in uncertainty.
But for the most honest kitten in the world, truth is bigger than answers.
Macaw is no mimic. No tabby has ever had his singular stripes, or the hummingbird-y happiness that flutters his frame when he first sees Jericho each morning.
He is the first feline to festoon warm laps with his particular purr, and all his meows are original compositions. If his medical issues are mysterious, it’s just proof that he is an exquisite original.
We will be his wings.
We will try to resist calling him “li’l puddin’ pop.”
And we will love him almost as much as Jericho does, in tenderness and truth.
Update: Our purry parrot has just learned a new word: “adopted.” That’s right. Jericho’s love prepared Macaw for a fabulous forever home! And don’t worry about Jericho. He will have a new office mate to “adopt” and adore.