Birdy

to turn up. I watch it a hundred times but can’t figure how he does it. I can see he tilts his body so he’s practically standing on his tail with wings full out at the split second when he pulls out of his dive, then, he hunches his shoulders over and traps the fast air under his wings to give him the thrust up. This bird is yellow like Birdie but has all the hawk look of Alfonso. He’s not as mean as some of the dark birds, but he fights if anybody pushes too hard. Most times he just moves away to another perch. He’s one of the ones who flew with all the weight.
    Alfonso II, from the first nest, is almost as mean as old Alfonso himself. The two of them get into some awful battles. Alfonso has a hard time finding any place in the aviary where he isn’t invading the territory of number-one son.
    I still haven’t lost any birds. Mr Lincoln gives me some great ideas for tonics. I soak seed and mix it with egg food and cereal. I give them apples, lettuce, and dandelion leaves.
    Counting Alfonso and Birdie, there are twenty birds – twelve males and eight females. The only sure breeding pair I have is Alfonso and Birdie. I could line-breed to Alfonso with one of the females but he’s so good with Birdie, I hate to break it up. It’s hard to do, but I decide to sell, or trade off, all the females. I need new blood; I can’t breed brother to sister. Some of these females are beautiful, and I hate to sell them. I feel like a slave trader.
    I’m going to run fifteen breeding couples, so I need three more males as well as the females. I hunt around for two months before I find the kind of males I want. The trouble is it’s hard to see how well they fly, even in flight cages. The birds can’t get up any real speed.
    One male I buy is what’s called a cinnamon. He’s sort of a golden-brown color. He’s long and slim like Alfonso, but his song type is what is called Saxon; sort of half roller.
    Another male is yellow except for a black head and a topknot. A topknot has his hair parted and combed out from the center of his head. He looks as if he’s wearing a hat. This one looks almost like a clown. If you breed two topknots together you get a bald-headed bird. Mr Lincoln is disgusted that I’d buy a topknot. He doesn’t like any of the fancy birds. But this topknot can really fly. Also, he’s incredibly good at hovering. Canaries don’t hover much but this topknot can hover around the top of an aviary like a hawk hunting. He can also do a fair glide. Finches generally aren’t much for gliding, so, I have to have him.
    The last one I get from Mr Lincoln. Mr Lincoln gives me the bird for nothing. He’s convinced this bird’s crazy. It keeps flying into the sides of the aviary. Most birds learn fast just what a cage is and how wire is. They get so they fly up against the cage but swing their feet up and grab hold. Only a baby bird will actually butt its head against the wire of a cage.
    Now, this bird won’t recognize the cage. It’s full-grown but he’ll fly head-on against the wire as if it isn’t there. As a result he spends a fair amount of time on the bottom of the cage recovering from crashes. Mr Lincoln says he’s born stubborn dumb. I try to trade one of my dark females for him but Mr Lincoln doesn’t even want that. He says he thought of me as soon as he noticed this stupid bird.
    I trade away the females one for one. Mrs Prevost takes most of them and gives me the pick of hers. She’s glad I’m going to breed one male to a female. I spend two weeks in her cages trying to pick her best flying females. I work out a system. I borrow a stopwatch from school and watch a particular bird for five minutes. I only count the time the bird is actually in the air. I want my birds to like flying. I check each bird three times then add in such things as gracefulness and speed of flight. When I’m finished I have all the birds ranked on a flying scale. I’m also trying to avoid birds who are plain clumsy. This type will come in for a landing and stumbleor crash into other birds. They’ll do a lot of crazy fluttering when they try to land on a perch in a tight space between other birds. I’m also avoiding any female who sings or fights. All the books say these are bad signs for a breeding bird. Singing females have a tendency to abandon the nest. I get my lists finished and give them to Mrs Prevost. There’re a few of her best breeders on the list and she won’t sell or trade those, but I get most