Bye Bye Birdie

My parakeet just died. We knew this was coming. She had been sick for a while. Her name was Baby.

I first got her after pet-sitting her for a friend. My friend didn't want her anymore because she had a lot of cats. I knew we were a good home for her because we already knew a lot about parakeets since my brother had one. That parakeet's name was Mike. As it turns out, Mike was actually a girl. Which was good because Mike and Baby were the closest friends. Mike was outgoing and was always trying to leave the cage. He (She, but we called him a he because he was my brother's) would fly everywhere. Baby would only go if she was following him. After he died of foot cancer, Baby was devastated. She never wanted to leave her cage. A while later, her depression wore off, but she still wasn't big on the flying around thing. She was more of a timid bird.

Baby liked to attack the toys in her cage. To me, it looked like she was training for something. She sure showed those toys who was boss. She was also pretty vocal- when it came to screaming at you. There was a time when she wouldn't let me hold her, but she would let me take her out and she wouldn't let my dad take her out, but she would let him hold her. I admit at times I thought she was crazy.

As she got older, the flying thing wasn't really working out. She would fly a little, then fall to the ground. Sometimes she crashed into walls or the TV. Once on the ground, she seemed perfectly content to stay there until one of us picked her up and brought her back.

There was also this one house plant that she became obsessed with eating. It was right next to her cage and she would try to pull leaves in for snacking. We didn't know if it was bad for her or not, but she seemed fine so we allowed her to keep on eating it. Eventually, the plant got too big and got moved to a different part of the house. I think she missed that plant.

When it became apparent she was getting sick, we tried looking for bird vets, but it turns out you have better luck finding gold than finding one in the area. The nearest ones were like an hour away. We never did take her to the vet. Despite, the growths under her arms, she was doing fine. She was playing and chirping and in good spirits.

Recently, these growths got too big and one could tell the hassle of lugging them around was eating away at her. I suggested to my dad that we try removing them ourselves. When my guinea pig was sick and wasn't eating, his teeth grew too long, so my dad bought a tool and did it himself. The bottom of these growths were dark, opposed to the tops which were red. I hoped this meant there wasn't any blood flow there. I thought it was worth a shot since her quality of life had become so crappy. So my dad did it today while I was in the shower. I do regret not being there, to help out and give suggestions. Maybe things would have been different. But, on the one side, she was bleeding a lot. We think she died from blood loss.

I'm glad she's in a better place now. I love you, Baby!