His name is Michael

How do you differentiate gender of birds?

This is the second bird to come into my life and wrap itself around my heart.
The first one was in 2005. It was after the most traumatic event of my life.

He had just lost lustre in ma eyes in the aftermath of that event. He walked in, cupping the fragile bird in his hands. It was injured, cant remember exactly what injury it was.
He tore one of his favourite shirts, to wrap around the source of injury, must have been the leg.
We took out muesli and began nursing the bird with utmost devotion. We ensured its thirst was quenched.
It had to have a name...

I always liked, and was going to name one of my kids, Apple. The name stuck.

Apple, the pigeon. He had cabin fever, and made numerous attempts at freedom. Flying around the room, finding him stuck in the window's burglar bars.
Inbetween the heated rows we'd have, he'd use Apple as a way to calm me, to end the tantrum.
Apple became the central part and the adhesive of a relationship in tatters.
We held on to him, denying his emancipation from the four walled cell.
We ignored the outbursts of the 'landlord' against keeping animals inside.

Until we did the inevitable, that morning.
Apple having resigned himself to life in captivity, hesitated before spreading his wings and taking flight.

We let him go. His name was Apple.

To be continued...