Thanks. I also find that I don't have to worry about my budgies when I have to leave the house. They are happy with each other.
Budgies are like potato chips. You can never have just one.
A while ago I posted this poem. The author gave me permission to share it.
Here it is again.
Once upon a time I was...
Only yesterday I was a happy budgie.
I sat in a warm nestbox,
surrounded by warming feathers and the familiar voices of my brothers and sisters.
Security and care under my mother's tender wings.
Only three days ago I was a content budgie.
Though I've been separated by force from my siblings and parents,
there were others of my kind who shared my fears.
We snuggled against each other and eyed the big unfeathered beings,
who paced up and down in front of our glass cases.
We got used to the fact that one of our friends suddenly vanished now and then.
The big unfeathered beings weren't able to get in to us.
To preen and cuddle each other is a good remedy against the fear.
Only a year ago I was a budgie.
Though I've been abducted from my new friends and brought into alien surroundings.
All around me strange unfeathered beings, whose size and voices scared me to death.
At nights I squatted alone in a dark corner, around me loneliness.
In my dreams my friends are with me, whose voices and warmth give me hope.
Memories are a good remedy against the fear.
Although after a while I realized that the unfeathered beings meant well,
I couldn't understand them.
Preening and cuddling helps to bridge distances.
So I took courage and began to preen the unfeathered beings.
Infinite ages ago I knew who I was.
Now I'm here, surrounded by darkness and silence.
The unfeathered beings visit me only very rarely now.
Did I do something wrong?
But how could I know since I can't understand them?
Just as they can't understand me.
The loneliness grabs at me and I am defenceless.
A void spreads in my head and in my soul.
Only sometimes in my dreams a fragment of a memory rises from infinite depths.
Fluttering of wings, familiar voices, a beak that caresses gently the thinning plumage on my neck.
I cannot hold these pictures, they slip away when I try to remember.
There is no remedy for loneliness.