Never really prepared to say good-bye I guess.
Still you get through it.
Yesterday I woke and realized there is more to do than just letting go. The tears are just the start. The fact that a bird that once gave me kisses before bed was now wrapped in blue tissue paper in my freezer was not comforting. Called my parents and let them know I was coming in & going to need a shovel. Another grave to dig.
Only I wasn’t expecting what I found when I got up to wake the parrots that were still alive and well.
Bongo’s cagemate, the other half of the Budgie Boys, Bijou was not coping well with spending a night alone. I uncover the cage & he screetched and flopped around the cage like a rabid bird gone mad. I tried to get him to step up. I tried to talk calmly to get him to calm down. No dice. He was pissed and he was going to fling himself around that cage moving everything he could. Maybe he was looking for Bongo? I got him out hoping he would fly a few laps around the room & release some of the tense energy. He flew around all right. All over the house calling out. Only no return call was to be found. He finally wore himself out & let me reach down to get him to step up. We snuggle a little. Something he typically isn’t game for. He perched on my shoulder & I went about doing the usual stuff of the morning.
In checking his food, he hadn’t even touched it.
I started to worry I would be digging two budgie sized graves.
Parrots are intelligent and social. They bond. They know when things change, they clearly grieve when they experience loss. Not sure why I was so shocked.
Bringing in parrots that were looking for new homes, I’ve seen them sad, confused and scared. But I had never seen anything like this.
So instead of just Baxter & myself taking the day trip to my parents woods where we lay all the pets who pass rest, Bijou joined the mourning crew.
He seemed to perk up in seeing my Dad. Even greeted him with the newly learned (from my Dad) farting raspberry sounding noise from the previous weekend. Clearly the distraction was doing him some good.
I hate digging graves, but there is a comfort in the luxury of being able to have a place to lay the body of the beloved. A sweet sadness found in seeing the mounds of stones and knowing that one is Smokey, the sweetest cat in the world to me, but a royal pain to mom. This one is Tyler the other blonde that had my Dad’s heart for years (Tyler was the Golden, who came before Molly, his current side kick Lab).
(& thankfully the only birds in the freezer are of the edible chicken kind)
Even bribed Bijou to eat a bit more today with a fry & part of a Chic-fil-a bun. The kid has taste!
Hoping with some TLC and extra time, he will be back to his old self in no time. I’m sure sooner or later there will be a budgie in need of a home that will find its way to my place. After the quarantine phase, Bijou can have a new roomie to share the cage with. For now we will just take it day by day & see where it all takes us.
Hoping that one grave is all I have to dig this year. The good-bye are just too hard.