When I was around the age of ten, my parents told me that they had been talking with a curious little man at their church. (He either has a withered arm from polo or a wooden leg. My memory is hazy on the details.) He had a parakeet, and because of his circumstances, he was having to give it up. Would I like it, they asked me? Would I?! For me, having such a pet would be tantamount to being a pirate.
We moved Cheeko and his cage into my bedroom. I knew that parrots could talk, so why not parakeets too? I spent a long time ‘Hello’ing to him, but to my disappointment, he never did any more than squawk. Despite this, I loved both the bird and the novelty of having an unusual pet. Disappointingly, he had the unsavoury habit of defecating anywhere he was perched, be it on my shoulder or the headboard of my bed. 
There was often an accumulation of guano on my clothes, my pillow and especially between the bedhead and the wall! It’s one of the little-known downsides to pirate life.
At that age, I knew all about talking birds, or more accurately, birds that can mimic. I knew that one of the best of all was the Mynah Bird. So when it came to write a parable about the tyranny of people pleasing, as a seemingly unimpressive ‘dull, back bird’, the Mynah bird fitted the bill (or beak). The bird in my story lacks confidence and self-esteem; he feels that mimicking other animals will make him more acceptable. But the story is also about the desire to be famous, to be loved and to be adored.
I understand that, when the children of today are asked what they want to be when they grow up, they are less likely to answer with the traditional dream jobs, but instead say that they want to be famous. And no wonder. They watch people with no particular skill launch into celebrity through reality TV shows, and see the rise of the ‘Influencer’. These people are famous just for being famous and seeming loved for little more than simply being themselves. The Mynah Bird of my story is attracted by the same glittering prize of popularity, but once he has achieved it, he finds the experience hollow, and the pressure of expectation weighs heavily on him. Putting on an act to be acceptable is exhausting. He is not loved for being himself when he is trying to appear as something else. The lessons he learns are hard-won, but eventually he concludes that he is enough without needing to hide behind a performance.
We live in a world where birds are everywhere, even in our cities. They are extraordinary creatures, and because of familiarity, it’s easy to forget that most of them are twice blessed: They can fly, and they can sing too. Like the Mynah Bird of my parable, when we compare ourselves to all the impressive people around us, it’s all too easy to discount the ways we are special and gifted ourselves. We are each well-made. We are each enough.
These and other thoughts were in my mind when I wrote chapter 1: The Mynah Bird who found his song. Because of the nature of a parable, I know that other readers will hear something different in the story. I encourage you to go read it too. I would love to know how it speaks to you.
The Animal Parables (second edition) features 12 stories and is available now in hardback, paperback and Kindle. The original 7 story version can be heard on Audible.
