There are stories galore about dog’s phenomenal loyalty towards its master that does not diminish throughout its life. In most cases, when the owner’s death left the animal orphaned, the pet is known to have silently mourned its master’s demise, refusing to take food and sitting all the time brooding.

It does not bark even when it should. There are instances when the bereaved dog has been found sitting at its master’s grave for long hours.

There is a striking similarity between the emotions of a dog and humans. For example, the animal also cries in body pain or in agony caused by factors like the demise of a near and dear one. The difference is that it does not shed tears like us, though some owners say their pet does get tearful eyes.

I am referring to the emotional relationship between a canine and humans because dog has been the most popular and closest species to man. Its faithfulness has earned it the sobriquet, ‘Man’s best friend’.

It is common knowledge that almost all animals respond positively to gestures of love and affection and that they react adversely to ill treatment or threat of any kind. To name a few, dolphin, pet monkeys, cats, pigeons, domesticated hawks and cows are among such species.

That’s not all. I have seen even the fiercest carnivore tigers, lions and panthers living like family members in the house of well-known conservator Billy Arjan Singh in the midst of Dudhwa Wild Life Sanctuary in Uttar Pradesh.

Yes, the reason behind that affinity was that Billy had raised these beasts since their birth like his own children, playing mother and father. This phenomenon of reciprocal love between humans and animals is universal as is provoked antagonism.

I am reminded of a domesticated parrot that had become a plaything in a house in Pilibhit city in Uttar Pradesh due to its antics and mimicry. Perched on a swing in a cage, the parrot, affectionately addressed as Mitthoo, used to observe the goings on in the house and would cram names and dialogues it heard in the house.

The lady of the house was addressed as Buddy by her husband and father-in-law. So, little Mitthoo would also squawk, “Buddy, Mitthoo ko roti do (Buddy, give me bread). That would melt the kind lady’s heart and she would promptly meet the demand by giving it a piece of bread which sufficed. The little devil started embarrassing her by calling out her name every now and then.

The other harried person was the family’s domestic help Sukkhi whose job was to look after the bird and feed it on time. A little delay and the parrot would squeal, “Sukkhi, give Mitthoo bread and water” (The bird used to soak bread slice in water before consuming it).

Mitthoo easily mimicked the lady of the house, often creating amusing situations. Whenever she called out for her son Chunnay or daughter Kishori, Mitthoo would parrot the names several times evoking laughter.

During those light moments, Kishori would tell Mitthoo ‘to die’. The parrot would turn its beak inwards and close its eyes pretending that it had ‘died’ as desired. Everybody enjoyed the fun.

As luck would have it, one day Mitthoo escaped when the door of the cage was left open inadvertently. It took a long flight (about 55kms) and reached a house in Bareilly, the adjoining district, which, by a quirk of fate, belonged to Buddy’s brother, B.D. Varma. The parrot appeared to have been attacked by wild pigeons during its flight and was injured. Taking pity, Varma gave it first aid and put it in a cage. As it recovered, it resumed its mimicry and antics in the new place also.

In yet another coincidence, Chunnay, who was Varma’s nephew, happened to visit Bareilly and stayed with him. Seeing him, Mitthoo started squealing, “Chunnay, Chunnay” and fluttered its wings in joy. Chunnay responded by caressing the bird through the grilles of the cage.

The onlookers enjoyed the reunion by offering it green chilies, which parrots relish most. Chunnay went back home in Pilibhit and narrated the incident to his family. They decided to let Mitthoo remain in its new home at Varmas.

But this family was saddened that Mitthoo was not vibrant and chirpy as before and remained silent and brooding most of the time.

Was it suffering from the pangs of separation from Buddy’s family and Sukkhi? Was it craving to go back to the Pilibhit house to get back the affection it had lost? Evidently, this bird was betraying the kind of emotions we humans have.

But before anyone could change their decision, one day, Varmas informed Buddy’s family that Mitthoo was no more. It died brooding.

Lalit Raizada is a journalist based in India.