I live with my parents, and we owned a Green-Cheeked conure.
The poor thing had a weird early life, living in my sister's basement and as she moved into a house and could not take care of her, she was going to get rid of it, and that meant definitely. But we couldn't let her go, so we took her in.
Her name was Sexy (we're French, if that gives the name any sense)
Sexy got attached to my mother first, and I believe by the way she acted that he saw her as "her lover". It wasn't rare that Sexy would bite unexpectedly and my mother did not really know how to handle it and just acted rashly, and Sexy never learned.
Eventually, though, I came closer to the bird and became a sort of protector. While she spent all her time on my mother, I began to control her biting habits, and she started to evolve. My mother never could teach her any words, but I taught her how to say "tu veux manger" (you wanna eat, which was the first "accidental" thing she learned), "c'est bon" (its good), "bonjour", and most importantly "des bec" (she didn't learn it right but who cares, it essentially means "kisses" and she would understand it and give various noisy kiss to us when she was happy or when we gave her any)
While like any bird of their size, she occasionally bit, the frequency was much more rare now. I became the one that would tuck her in at night (in a manner of speaking -> I would command her saying "on va faire dodo", it was time to sleep, she would jump in my hand, I'd caress her neck a little, give her a kiss and let her enter her tent in her cage).
All of that was rather difficult before me, she often whined and refused to go to sleep, but she became a wonderful bird in the end. Me, my mother and him had a great synergy, and lately even my father started to get along with her better. (mostly he used to ignore her)
I really felt like her protector when one day, visit came into the house unexpectedly with a dog, which jumped over to the bird and scared her. He only wanted to play, but she was screaming the kind of scream I had never heard. People think me a slow person, but believe me when I said I beat the 5-meter run world record and shoved the dog aside to get Sexy to safety. After that event, Sexy seemed to find my presence her only comfort if anything particularly scared her (I mostly mean silly things, though, such as hats, god she hated hats).
Unfortunately, things changed yesterday. Early in the evening, she became extraordinarily sleepy. My mom says she bit her and didn't know why, after what Sexy went on her cage and just remained on top.
The weird thing is how long she stayed there, unmoving. I would offer her treats, but she didn't really move unless I would put my finger in front of her. Since it got late, I decided to put her to sleep, afraid anything would happen.
Its my mother who wakes her up in the morning. I got up, and she was on her cage already, but apparently never pooped. (morning poop is usually important). I decided to try and make her eat or at least drink. I put her there. She forced herself toward the water and drank a bit, and then to her food, but she barely ate, and then just stood there, again.
I don't have a car, and the closest veterinarian qualified for this is many miles away, so at least during the afternoon it was not an option.
Unfortunately it didn't matter.
Instead of just letting the bird stay on her cage all day, I took her on my finger and brought her to my mother. My mother would often put her hand on her chest close to her heart as she's sitting, and the bird would get on her hand, sitting right under her nose, receiving all the heat.
She did just that, but Sexy would stay there unusually long. Eventually, she decided she needed to fly back on her cage. But she failed, she became excessively dizzy and just send herself all over her cage. I could see her struggle walking, her legs just splitting up and her wings, too, and before I could catch her she jumped out of the top of the cage down to the lower level, producing a massive "tunk" sound as she clearly did not try to fly.
I took her in my hands and started getting really worried, but nothing I could immediately do, not until my father would come back.
I tried to carefully have her drink a little water at times and she did, but reluctantly. She spend the rest of the afternoon on my mother's hand, receiving warmth. In between times where my mother had to move, I had set-up her food and drink at the bottom of her cage and put her there so she didn't endanger herself trying to go to both.
Which she did, but again, only really drank a bit and nothing else, and her droppings were black and odd. I then took ehr out and kept her in my hands, near my nose, giving her warmth, and she felt at least comfortable but sleepy, as usual today.
The last time was worse. She went on her own again but this time was literally rolling all over, landing on her back and rolling around the couch, completely incapable of moving on her own, and she started breathing heavily, like anytime she overexerted like this.
But this time it just wasn't stop. My mother held her with both her hands on her chest, and it wasn't stopping. I was staring at her at this point, a tear running down my cheek. I knew what was going to happen.
She got worse, started to make a strange sound coming from her nose, as if she could no longer breathe. She started pannicking, and she cried out a few times, not strongly as she was likely not capable, but enough to know what it meant.
I could only stare at her from the side, sitting next to the couch, crying. As we kept saying words that used to comfort her, she was looking right at me, and I think, and hope, she knew how much we loved her.
Even as the life left her, I couldn't stop looking at her. She put her on her back, as I was wondering... if she truly was dead. And she was. The bird I loved, the bird I felt was my responsibility to protect, was dead.
This happened today. My father arrived at the end of it all. She is now sitting in the freezer, as we were unsure what to do with her. She meant enough to us that we want to bury her, a feeling that didn't usually inhabit us when it comes to animal. We also consider sending her to a veterinarian so they can see how she died, and maybe they can learn anything about it.
The poor thing was only 12 years old or so. I've been lucky in life, not having to watch anything die around me, except when I was exceedingly young.
For some people, it seemed like just a bird. And if I had never had one before, I would think the same. Its just a bird...
But the love I developed for this kind, loving, intelligent animal was completely unexpected. And loved her, I did.
I don't know exactly how animals, or birds, feel their sense of family. I hope she knew at the very end, in her own way, that we loved her and would never forget her.
I do not know if I could have the strength to ever have another bird. We will sell her cage, though I will keep the tent she slept in, in her memory. Nothing can replace her.
You don't have to say anything. I am not sure when or if I will return to read. I wrote this for myself, to immortalize the memory of her life out there, somewhere.
I want to add that there were some signs, slight loss of feathers in some places, but only small spots. She did not seem different all this time, but birds are good at hiding it. We tried to keep feeding her healthy things, although she did not eat as healthy as she could have as she succumbed to our less healthy habits as well.
She's making me re-think life. She's making me re-think many things. The house will feel so empty without her.
I wish you all the best with your own little friends. What am I saying. These birds are family, aren't they?
The poor thing had a weird early life, living in my sister's basement and as she moved into a house and could not take care of her, she was going to get rid of it, and that meant definitely. But we couldn't let her go, so we took her in.
Her name was Sexy (we're French, if that gives the name any sense)
Sexy got attached to my mother first, and I believe by the way she acted that he saw her as "her lover". It wasn't rare that Sexy would bite unexpectedly and my mother did not really know how to handle it and just acted rashly, and Sexy never learned.
Eventually, though, I came closer to the bird and became a sort of protector. While she spent all her time on my mother, I began to control her biting habits, and she started to evolve. My mother never could teach her any words, but I taught her how to say "tu veux manger" (you wanna eat, which was the first "accidental" thing she learned), "c'est bon" (its good), "bonjour", and most importantly "des bec" (she didn't learn it right but who cares, it essentially means "kisses" and she would understand it and give various noisy kiss to us when she was happy or when we gave her any)
While like any bird of their size, she occasionally bit, the frequency was much more rare now. I became the one that would tuck her in at night (in a manner of speaking -> I would command her saying "on va faire dodo", it was time to sleep, she would jump in my hand, I'd caress her neck a little, give her a kiss and let her enter her tent in her cage).
All of that was rather difficult before me, she often whined and refused to go to sleep, but she became a wonderful bird in the end. Me, my mother and him had a great synergy, and lately even my father started to get along with her better. (mostly he used to ignore her)
I really felt like her protector when one day, visit came into the house unexpectedly with a dog, which jumped over to the bird and scared her. He only wanted to play, but she was screaming the kind of scream I had never heard. People think me a slow person, but believe me when I said I beat the 5-meter run world record and shoved the dog aside to get Sexy to safety. After that event, Sexy seemed to find my presence her only comfort if anything particularly scared her (I mostly mean silly things, though, such as hats, god she hated hats).
Unfortunately, things changed yesterday. Early in the evening, she became extraordinarily sleepy. My mom says she bit her and didn't know why, after what Sexy went on her cage and just remained on top.
The weird thing is how long she stayed there, unmoving. I would offer her treats, but she didn't really move unless I would put my finger in front of her. Since it got late, I decided to put her to sleep, afraid anything would happen.
Its my mother who wakes her up in the morning. I got up, and she was on her cage already, but apparently never pooped. (morning poop is usually important). I decided to try and make her eat or at least drink. I put her there. She forced herself toward the water and drank a bit, and then to her food, but she barely ate, and then just stood there, again.
I don't have a car, and the closest veterinarian qualified for this is many miles away, so at least during the afternoon it was not an option.
Unfortunately it didn't matter.
Instead of just letting the bird stay on her cage all day, I took her on my finger and brought her to my mother. My mother would often put her hand on her chest close to her heart as she's sitting, and the bird would get on her hand, sitting right under her nose, receiving all the heat.
She did just that, but Sexy would stay there unusually long. Eventually, she decided she needed to fly back on her cage. But she failed, she became excessively dizzy and just send herself all over her cage. I could see her struggle walking, her legs just splitting up and her wings, too, and before I could catch her she jumped out of the top of the cage down to the lower level, producing a massive "tunk" sound as she clearly did not try to fly.
I took her in my hands and started getting really worried, but nothing I could immediately do, not until my father would come back.
I tried to carefully have her drink a little water at times and she did, but reluctantly. She spend the rest of the afternoon on my mother's hand, receiving warmth. In between times where my mother had to move, I had set-up her food and drink at the bottom of her cage and put her there so she didn't endanger herself trying to go to both.
Which she did, but again, only really drank a bit and nothing else, and her droppings were black and odd. I then took ehr out and kept her in my hands, near my nose, giving her warmth, and she felt at least comfortable but sleepy, as usual today.
The last time was worse. She went on her own again but this time was literally rolling all over, landing on her back and rolling around the couch, completely incapable of moving on her own, and she started breathing heavily, like anytime she overexerted like this.
But this time it just wasn't stop. My mother held her with both her hands on her chest, and it wasn't stopping. I was staring at her at this point, a tear running down my cheek. I knew what was going to happen.
She got worse, started to make a strange sound coming from her nose, as if she could no longer breathe. She started pannicking, and she cried out a few times, not strongly as she was likely not capable, but enough to know what it meant.
I could only stare at her from the side, sitting next to the couch, crying. As we kept saying words that used to comfort her, she was looking right at me, and I think, and hope, she knew how much we loved her.
Even as the life left her, I couldn't stop looking at her. She put her on her back, as I was wondering... if she truly was dead. And she was. The bird I loved, the bird I felt was my responsibility to protect, was dead.
This happened today. My father arrived at the end of it all. She is now sitting in the freezer, as we were unsure what to do with her. She meant enough to us that we want to bury her, a feeling that didn't usually inhabit us when it comes to animal. We also consider sending her to a veterinarian so they can see how she died, and maybe they can learn anything about it.
The poor thing was only 12 years old or so. I've been lucky in life, not having to watch anything die around me, except when I was exceedingly young.
For some people, it seemed like just a bird. And if I had never had one before, I would think the same. Its just a bird...
But the love I developed for this kind, loving, intelligent animal was completely unexpected. And loved her, I did.
I don't know exactly how animals, or birds, feel their sense of family. I hope she knew at the very end, in her own way, that we loved her and would never forget her.
I do not know if I could have the strength to ever have another bird. We will sell her cage, though I will keep the tent she slept in, in her memory. Nothing can replace her.
You don't have to say anything. I am not sure when or if I will return to read. I wrote this for myself, to immortalize the memory of her life out there, somewhere.
I want to add that there were some signs, slight loss of feathers in some places, but only small spots. She did not seem different all this time, but birds are good at hiding it. We tried to keep feeding her healthy things, although she did not eat as healthy as she could have as she succumbed to our less healthy habits as well.
She's making me re-think life. She's making me re-think many things. The house will feel so empty without her.
I wish you all the best with your own little friends. What am I saying. These birds are family, aren't they?
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