VICTORIA, B.C. — While you wouldn’t think twice if she was walking a dog, you might do a double-take if you noticed Ning Cao has a bird in her backpack. “Sometime people ask me, ‘Is that a real bird?’” Ning says, gesturing to the yellow parrot perched in a backpack that has a bubble window for the bird to look out from. “And I thought, ‘If it’s not a real bird, I would be crazy—carrying a fake bird walking around the street!’” This very real parrot is named Burbur. And before the backpack, they spent years walking together with Burbur wrapped in Ning’s coat collar. “And she has her little head,” Ning says, using her finger to demonstrate how Burbur would poke her face up to see. “And she’s peeking around.” She would fearlessly watch the world go by—with the same curiosity as when she’d use her beak to scroll through social media on Ning’s phone and stop to watch bird videos, and the same boldness she exhibited playing with other animals like dogs and cats—until that day Burbur was startled by a loud motorcycle. “And she just flew out,” Ning says, recalling the parrot heading to a nearby tree, before flying to an even taller one, then eventually disappearing. “I was heartbroken.” Because to Ning, Burbur was more than just a bird. “She’s so small. But to me, I’m like her size and she’s like my size,” Ning says, smiling. “She’s my baby.” Burbur would sleep next to Ning all night before waking up wanting to be even closer. “I just put her here,” Ning says, holding up her arms. “And she cuddles like a dog.” And then—like a dog—the bird would ask Ning to throw her ball so she could tirelessly fetch and return it, or step into the entrance of her green enclosure like a goalie, to stop Ning from scoring. “She’s always beside me,” Ning says. “She needs people all the time.” But it wasn’t until Ning was enduring a divorce that she realized just how much she also needed Burbur. “I was crying, and she was right beside me and she was picking up my tears,” Ning says, pointing to her cheeks, showing how the parrot gently wiped away her tears. “It feels like I’m not alone, because I have you.” And sad tears were replaced by happy tears. Just like that day Burbur went missing and a group of strangers noticed Ning was looking for her. “They told (me) a police officer has (a yellow bird) on his shoulder looking for the owner,” Ning recalls with a smile. “That’s my bird! I’m so happy!” After they were reunited, Burbur showed how happy she was by singing a song that’s reminiscent of a purring cat, every time Ning pet her. And then Ning bought that backpack. because when your feathered friend has a life expectancy of 30 more years, you’ll do whatever you can to protect her. “She’s going to grow hold with me,” Ning says, wiping away a happy tear. “It’s unbelievable how powerful this love is.”
