Once upon a time, there was a young little bird in a pet store with very unique tail feathers the same length as she is from head to bottom, which would open to form the shape of a fan whenever she felt happy/excited.

She often daydreamed about flying high up in the clear blue sky, and everyone could tell what she’s thinking by her tail feathers. Fanny tail, fanny tail! Other birds teased her. Why would you ever want to leave the comforts of being a pet bird? The older birds tweeted in question. You don’t understand! She often wailed in response.

Over time, she fell tired of fighting everyone. Why am I so different? Why does it bother me to be held in a cage? I don’t understand…

One day, a human couple with a young boy walked past the pet store. The young boy immediately noticed the fanning feathers of the little bird, ran into the pet store, and begged his parents to let him take her home, but his parents will not allow pets. This young boy came in the next day, alone, and smuggled the little bird home. I’m free! She thought. I can finally have a place to myself.

At first, the young boy was super excited: he fed her with yummy seeds, brought new toys to her, admired her tail for hours at a time, and let her out of the cage into his room to play once in a while. She got a taste of flying in a big tall space and wanted to venture further outside, but the boy would not let her leave his bedroom. Why can’t I explore outside with him?

The boy’s parents soon discover what he’d been hiding, and made it clear to him that he is solely responsible for looking after the bird. Over time, the boy grew tired of that responsibility. Let me out, let me out! She wailed. He then threw a black cloth over her cage to silence her. When that didn’t work, he would rattle the cage until she learned to stop tweeting.

One night, while the boy was out with his parents, the little bird looked out the window to the the moon and stars, then looked around her cage… she began to wail. What am I doing?

High up in the sky, a pygmy owl flew by and heard what appears to be the sad tweets of a small bird. Out of curiosity, he landed on a tree branch near the window where the sound came from, to find a small bird inside a big white cage on the other side of the glass. What is this strange creature? Why is it in a cage? The owl pecked on the window for answers.

The knock on her window startled her. She looked up to find a strange, oval birdlike creature much larger than her with visibly big talons, and its big round eyes are looking at her. She froze. How is he outside?

Baffled by her reaction, he hooted an introduction, I’m Pygmy. What’s your name?

She thought for a moment. I… don’t have a name. I used to get teased a lot and get called ‘fanny tail’ because of my tail… it’s not doing that so much anymore. She cried.

Interesting. Pygmy thought. Did you know there are a large group of birds out here with tails just like you, and humans actually call them fantails? Pygmy hoots encouragement. If you could get yourself out of that evil contraption, I can show you to them. 

A welcoming message. Her eyes widened. A whole group of birds… just like me? Her tail briefly opened up, then drops back down again.

…My human won’t let me. How did you convince yours to let you outside?

Me? Don’t be silly. I’m a free bird, I do what I want! The owl sees a rat on the ground, swoops down to catch it, and back on the tree branch to enjoy his one square meal, looking very pleased with himself.

The fantail is impressed. And saddened. I’ve always wondered what it’s like to be free. But I don’t know how to get out of here. She cried once more.

The owl watches her for a moment. I’m sorry, I cannot help you. You have to figure that out for yourself. The owl hoots a long, sad tone. I will come back for you once you are freed. Pygmy flies away.

Over the next few sunsets, Pygmy the owl would fly past that same house occasionally to check on the fantail. He told her stories about his adventures while the boy is away, and if nothing else, he could at least provide the comfort of friendship through the glass, waiting for that day when she will be freed.

Storm came. Pygmy the Owl did not show up this time, and, as the fantail waited in twilight while the boy was asleep in his bed, where has he gone?

She could not hold herself together any longer, but out of fear of waking the boy, she could only let it out quietly. Still, strange noises soon woke the young boy, and he could not understand why this bird did not appreciate him enough to stay quiet.

The boy tried everything: growling, covering, rattling. Please! STOP!! She tweeted in desperation. The boy could stand the tweeting no more. He quickly carried the cage to the back door of the house, and as he swung the cage out as far as he could into the forest, he shouted:”I’VE HAD IT!” and shuts the door.

The cage warped on impact, leaving the gates wide open. The sky pouring with rain. Many of her wing feathers had snapped or bent. I’m free… She tweeted to herself, trembling in the wet cold. But I’ve lost my wings…

Pygmy the Owl, sheltered and asleep inside his tree hole, was startled by the commotion and looked outside. What happened? He noticed a broken cage at the foot of his tree. Then he heard a familiar cry of a small bird. Quiet! Pygmy hooted a warning. You’ll attract predators!

The fantail heard the hoot and looked up to see Pygmy making his way down to shelter her from the rain. Thank you… She gestured.

Can you walk? Pygmy hooted softly. Try to get up.

The fantail stood up slowly and hopped a couple of times. I can, she gestured to her wings, but I cannot fly…

It’s only broken feathers. Pygmy hooted in encouragement, they will grow back with time. He proceeded to maneuver the cage to help the fantail come out.

The fantail hesitated at the gate.

You’re free. Pygmy hooted. You don’t need the cage anymore.

What should I do with my freedom? fantail wondered.

Pygmy thought for a moment. Hop onto my back for now, we need to wait until the storm passes. The fantail made her way onto his back, and he brings her to his tree hole to wait out the storm.

So, what would you like to call yourself? Pygmy gestured casually.

I… The fantail thought for a long time.

If it helps, Pygmy hooted with laughter, I’m Pygmy because I’m much much smaller than an average owl. Pygmy then hooted with a positive tone. I see your feathers are much more red than mine and I think it’s beautiful.

Her eyes widened. It was a revelation.

My name is Ruby Fantail.

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To be continued….