I remember he had a "wobbly man" toy in his cage and he always picked him up and threw him about. If I pretended to talk to this toy and picked it up, he used to go nuts, chaffing at me and pecking the toy! "Pretty Boy" were his main words, but he said many things in his own way and daft as I am -- I understood!
I once put him in a shady spot in the garden during a year when we had a heatwave. He loved it outside. I decided to change the sand paper while he was outside and as I slid the tray from under him, he managed to squeeze through the smallest gap and off he flew.
I just watched in horror as he flew off. Walking up the street, tinkling his bell and shouting him, got me nowhere.
I sobbed all night, and on my way to put an advert in our local newsagent an old lady was placing an advert too -- she'd found him!
When I entered her house, I called his name and he came to me.
I asked the lady if she had recently lost a budgie because Noddy was sat in a lovely cage with so many toys. Apparently her budgie had escaped through her window and she'd had him so long, she kept the cage for sentiment.
My husband John asked his friend, who breeds budgies, for a young one and we took it to her the next day. She was so thrilled, I was so grateful and John, well he had a budgie named after him!
I will always have a budgie until I'm old and grey; they are the easiest pet to keep and they give so much joy back in return.
Story courtesy and © the author 1996. First published 2003.