There
are some days that begin with such promise only to take a downhill spin that
sends one screeching into a spiraling whirlpool from which they must struggle
to extricate themselves. Today was one
of those for me.
This
morning began well enough, with my having a late night snack that I opted to
sit at our kitchen table and share with each of my exotic birds. Both eagerly awoke to accept my offering, and
I delighted in the happy coos they emitted as they nibbled. Once finished, I headed off to bed. A few short hours later, my alarm ripped me
from my sleep so I could take my youngest son to the bus that would transport
him to a cross-country meet.
Arriving
home after that, I again headed to bed, hoping to catch a couple extra hours of
sleep. I did. When I awoke, I made my way to the kitchen
and the coffee pot. A friend called as I
was waiting for the coffee to brew, and we spoke for a bit.
From
across the kitchen, I noticed my female exotic bird on the bottom of her cage,
a plume of downy feathers swirling this way and that as she flapped her
wings. I wasn’t alarmed—at first, as
this is something she’d done on a regular basis for the thirty-one years I’ve
had her. But then…something about the
rhythm of the beating of her wings seemed…off.
Can’t explain it better than that.
I just sensed something was wrong…terribly wrong.
Going to
her cage, I lifted her cover and immediately noticed that one of her feet was
desperately clinging to the side of the cage, her other, curled beneath
her. Her wings stopped their rapid
beating as soon as our eyes locked. It
was then that I realized the totality of her distress. Hanging up with my friend, I opened my bird’s
cage and began stroking her outstretched wings just as her head began to roll
from front to back, as if the effort to hold it up was too great.
It
was.
Moments
later, my beautiful bird lost her grip on the side of the cage and flailed
about, landing on her back towards the rear of the cage. Reality sunk in with blinding force. As if the wind had been knocked out of me, my
rear hit the ground and I reached in the cage to gather my lifelong friend in
my hands.
Gasping
out her last breaths and uttering the most tragic woeful cries I’d ever heard,
it as then that my thirty-two-year old female Amazon parrot died. She’d been an integral part of my life for
thirty-one years.... Grew up with her
really. She knew every secret, listened
to every woe, rejoiced through every triumph and shared my every
happiness. It's hard to believe she’s
gone. To see another huge span of my
life come to an end.
I have
no idea what caused her to die so suddenly.
And it broke my heart to see her buddy, my male exotic bird, desperate
to help as he cried out for his friend.
Alone in the house, I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, holding my
bird, my heart shattered as tears streamed down my face.
I picked
up the phone and called back my friend.
Couldn’t’ even get out a hello before my voice cracked and I choked on
an endless stream of sobs that shook my body.
My friend cried along with me and remained on the phone for the next two
hours as I attempted to recover and then set to the hard task of removing my
bird’s cage, placing it out in the garage and wrapping my bird’s body in a
lovely towel she would have liked.
I'm
about to go out and bury her in our yard.
Have found just the right spot.
One where I hope she'll never be disturbed....
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