Squawks of Gilbert

So now I only write when someone dies. Times are tough — war, famine, death everywhere. Good thing I live in a nice upper-middle-class home in North America. Despite what people say, I know I’m lucky.

And so was Cracker. He came from a place where he wasn’t wanted and wasn’t loved and he found a new home with Amber and Daddy. They gave him everything a little deformed bird could ask for. They even ignored his rather unseemly proclivities. Sometimes I thought they loved him more than they loved me. But that’s ridiculous, isn’t it?

Anyway, I think his upbringing had some kind of damaging effect on him because from day one he never really tried to integrate. Thought he could just muscle in and be number 1. Hmph. Never showed me any respect at all. Oh the fights we used to get into! But that’s all past now. Let bygones be bygones. Don’t speak ill of the dead and all.

We may have had our differences and our arguments, but he was still family. And I miss him. Rest in peace little friend.