For the Love of God, Fly the Nest

"Okay little one, out you go!"

Bisha gently tugged a silky cloth tucked underneath the scruffy white bird looking right back at her. The bird nibbled at her fingers, looking content as it shuffled in its soft, warm bed. Bisha nudged again, encouraging the adolescent to take its first flight after rehabilitation. Six volunteers stood intently, watching the ball of feathers as it rolled around in its bed.

A few made glances at each other. One whispered 'is this supposed to happen?'

Without looking up, Bisha spoke. "This happens a lot of the time. We give such good care that the bird never ends up wanting to leave. Why do you think we have six healthy blue-crested moas running around the meadows, perfectly healthy? In fact... don't tell anyone this, but a quarter of our birds aren't actually sick. They just refuse to leave. We tell the bosses they're incurable and get extra money to keep them comfy."

Bisha continued to explain, while the bird hopped around its open cage. It poked its head out from time to time, before retreating to its quarters. One volunteer pulled a corner of the cloth out from the cage, in an attempt to drag the bird along with it. A small tug of war broke out between the two, with the volunteer eventually surrendering. The bird let out a victorious rattle, staring right at him.

"Oh for the love of God, fly the nest!"

The birds wings fluttered as it let out a little chirp. It was happy as anything, wrapped up in a cozy silk cloth.

"Bisha... I don't think this is working. It has been an hour now," the volunteers looked visibly exhausted. One had even sat down, checking his watch every twenty seconds.

"Okay, fine. Let's go. This little one can live with us."