My sweet, sweet husband hailed from a place in Mexico where it was literally a "hut", not a house. In the times he lived there with his super-mean Grandmama - there were only dirt (earth) floors, no plumbing and no electricity. His mother died in complications of childbirth to him (a few months later - and believe me, his family BLAMED my poor husband for "killing his mother"). That left only his Dad, who was a very poor man who collected "leña" (odd pieces of wood for firewood) up in the mountains. Many times he would be gone for weeks or months to collect the leña. Meanwhile - my hubby lived with his Grandmama (since his brothers and sisters were grown and had their own places to live).
Hid Grandmama was really MEAN - in fact, she lived to be almost 110 years old (probably being ornery kept her alive that long!!!) - and when the Governor of that state came to award her a plaque for being the oldest person in the state (possibly the oldest in Mexico) - she came after him with a machete yelling "All you Government people are the SAME - you all want to steal our land!!!" So, the Governor never got to present her with the plaque.
ANYWAY - one of the meanest things (besides beating my husband senseless for nothing) she used to do was to demand that he catch one bird daily with his slingshot (which she de-feathered, cooked and served - in spite of what little meat it offered). But my husband was (and still is!) an animal lover. He felt so guilty killing a poor little bird.
One day he caught (in his hand) a bird and was determined that it would not be eaten. He was about 5 years old at the time. THIS little bird would become his pet, his friend and he would hide it and save it from being eaten. He told his Grandmama a lie that he had not caught any bird that evening.
In his loving hands he took this little bird (whom he named "piocito") to his "bed" (I say "bed" in quotes because he had a straw mat on the earthen floor). However, during the night, as he caressed "piocito" with loving thoughts, he accidentally rolled over on it and killed it.
Morning came and his Grandmama, seeing the dead bird was FURIOUS at him for not having turned it in to her the previous evening. Not only was poor "piocito" defeathered and COOKED - but my husband was beaten with a very thorny and heavy stick.
Somehow, since that day, he has a very special relationship with birds. He has rescued about 4 since I've known him. One of the 4 died, but it must have been very sick to begin with (a pigeon). One of the birds he rescued was a "starling" and we know a person who makes a wry face and utters an UGH about starlings because they are not "native" to the Americas. But that's not THEIR fault - some idiot scientist brought them over and here they are. Anyway - to this day his relationship to all wildlife, but especially birds is very, very close.
The mean Grandmama? She died at about 110 years of age. The "hut"?? My husband and I signed over all rights (as did his sisters and brothers) when the younger half-brother (his Dad remarried at a later date) wanted to have the house to raise his family. He put in a floor, plumbing, electricity - that was the least we could do was to sign over the "house".
There is a LONG story about how my sweet husband came to America; I will tell it another time.
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