This nest-fallen blue jay hopped up the steps, demanding my attention. I watched for an hour for the mother to tend her squawking child and could bare it no longer. Milk and bread was my first offering (not good) that sated him long enough for me to make numerous phone calls to learn a better diet. Our local nature preserve directed me to an expert and we gained a new mission; to raise him to self-sufficiency with wildlife freedom, but `BJ´ had other plans.

By day two of BJ´s residence, he had already gained strength and size on the improved dog-food diet, but was still just a hopper -- not a flyer. My major concern was that he would hop into the swimming pool. The solution was to keep him in a large cage on the porch when we were not outside. At every feeding, and they were frequent, we took him to the lower lawn for flight instruction. After several days of tossing-propulsion, he began to fly solo. At first, his attempts were too low for pool-safety, as he could land only upon unintentional-contact with the nearest object -- usually the east fence alongside treacherous waters. This begot our training flight pattern in-between cage accommodation until at last,  he earned his safe wings and could reside in the open.

Given his freedom, BJ declined. Instead he choose to live in the rose canes under our back porch and demanded feeding of anyone passing -- even the dogs. He would fly to their feet and behave as a gaping-mouth chick. Beau nuzzled and licked him with paternal love while then-shy Nigel ran. Even our cockatiel was entranced.  BJ demanded he was ours. We had no choice, he wanted to be our budgie. My family became so attached to him because of this endearing demand and his intense personality that we came to love. When BJ finally ventured forth, he soon met his demise in a raging storm and still, we think of him often.