Houdini Posters

Waking up early for the past six days, I would dash upstairs to release Houdini from his bucket cage. Lifting the oven rack lid, I'd slide my hand in and catch this tiny yellow bird. Wrapping his feet around one of my fingers, we'd skip back down the stairs and I'd release him to flying freedom around the rec room. I loved getting him out of the cage because he became a cheerful song bird, especially when he could zoom around in front of the big sunny windows. Dad wasn't always the biggest fan of a free bird because I had to clean a few bird tirds out of the carpet.
The other day I made posters with his gorgeous photo in the centre:
"Found: One beautiful yellow canary on October 6th.... If he belongs to you, please call 555-5555." I drove around the neighbourhood and hung up these posters on 8 nearby mailboxes. Yesterday was the first day people would collect mail again, since it was a holiday weekend... so I was hopeful Houdini's owner would call us. Although as a family we were all talking about buying a bird cage... and we've been researching what canaries eat, etc. I had bought some canary spray millet the other day and every day he had fresh water in his cage.
While playing euchre with my Sunday night, we all enjoyed having Houdini constantly flying over our heads. He would sing from the light shade hanging over the table. And eventually he settled down to rest in some bread baskets tucked up above the kitchen cupboards.
Last night, when I was driving home from work at 11:15 pm, I noticed that my posters were no longer hanging on two of the mailboxes that I drove past. I was so curious. I thought maybe Houdini's owner had called, and so the posters were taken down. Dad was waiting for me when I got home. Dad had taken the posters down for a different reason. Houdini had been a cheeful song bird at 2 in the afternoon, enjoying some freedom in the kitchen (which is rare because Dad doesn't often let him out.) At 4, when Rick got home from work, Houdini was on his perch in the bucket, and at 5 pm, Houdini had breathed his last at the bottom of the bucket.
We are all stunned and baffled. He was only 2, and had been very lively. Now I must go out and dig a small grave in the garden. My little song bird is now singing in the arms of his Creator.