Teddscau
Active member
- Sep 25, 2015
- 640
- Media
- 2
- 123
- Parrots
- Budgies: Sunshine, Blanco, Azure; Peach-faced lovebirds: Rosie and Jaybird; YSA: Jasper (♀)
Last summer I lost Noah. He’s always been my healthy spunky little boy. But one day in August, I saw him on the door of the cage with his eyes closed, with Sunshine teasing him. However, he didn’t throw a tantrum like he normally would’ve. I let my parents know he was in crisis, then I rushed in the aviary. He was already on the floor in the short time it took me to tell them. I scooped him up in my hands, but he didn’t yell at me or hit me. I thought he might’ve had an infection or disease that I failed to notice, but then I saw that someone had peeled off some of the top layer of skin on his feet. Well, it wasn’t brutal like you’re imagining. Just that dry layer that they’ll pick at and remove little pieces from when they’re preening. I became hopeful, thinking he might’ve just had a stroke, and that one of the others had gently nibbled at his feet to try to get him out of his stupor.
I tried to syringe him sugar water and feed him tofu, but he‘d fall asleep after a few seconds. I was praying that he’d had a stroke, but then I found a small amount of blood on his side, still a bit sticky. He’d broken a blood feather on his side. Not a flight feather or a tail feather, just a regular body feather. I’d found him within an hour of the accident, but he had already lost too much blood. There was hardly any blood in the aviary, yet he couldn’t stay awake. There was nothing that could be done. The vet wasn’t open, and I didn’t have any experience force-feeding birds.
He’d grind his beak every now and then, tucking his head into his back. I was hopeful. He felt well enough to grind his beak and tuck his head in, and he was nice and warm, so maybe if I kept him warm and let him sleep, he’d be okay. But as time passed, his urates started looking off. Like his kidneys were starting to fail.
Rosie came over to us to check on Noah. He had been on my forearm thus far, but she went over to him and started preening him. The she started touching his wing and was trying to preen his flight feathers. I knew he didn’t like it, but he was too tired to tell her off. So I put my hand between her and Noah. I could tell she was angry, but she seemed to understand that I wasn’t trying to be mean.
I had him step-up for me, then I put him on my left shoulder against my neck, and covered him with my hair. This is how we used to snuggle before I adopted Rosie and they decided to pair up. We snuggled together in the aviary for over four hours, with Rosie coming over to check on him every now and then. I softly played his favourite songs on my iPad for him. Then I put him in a carrier, and sat him on the table near me as I forced myself to eat. He was a bit perkier, so I got him a plate of soft tofu and a bit of juice, and I encouraged him to eat and drink. He’d get excited for the food and juice, but he’d fall asleep before he could swallow. I’d call his name, nudge him, and rub his head, but he couldn’t stay awake. I brought him up to my room, and cranked my heater out. It was hot in there and I was sweating, but it was a great temperature for sick birds. I put him on my dresser and I stayed up until 3 am, peeking at him every thirty minutes to make sure he was okay. It had been well over ten hours and he was still alive, so he might make it.
My dad came in at 9 am and woke me up, telling me that Noah had died sometime after I fell asleep. I picked up his stiff little body, and carried him to the aviary and placed him in the middle of the floor, and left him there for a couple of hours. I took him out, and Dad buried him.
For the next few months, Rosie stayed awake until as late as 4 in the morning, calling for him. Whenever she heard a sound, she’d get excited and start calling, thinking it might be him returning to her.
He was only 8 when he died. He‘d lived less than half of his expected lifespan. He’d been healthy his entire life, until one day when a tiny little blood feather broke. He was fine one moment, then was dying the next because of a stupid, unpreventable accident. He was my best friend, and we were supposed to be together for many more years. I miss him everyday. I’m just glad I found him so quickly after his accident, otherwise I‘d be blaming myself for the rest of my life. If I wasn’t able to save him even though I noticed what had happened so soon after he hurt himself…then there was no way I could’ve saved him unless I had been there right when the accident occurred. I didn’t have a matter of hours to save him, I only had a few minutes.
I tried to syringe him sugar water and feed him tofu, but he‘d fall asleep after a few seconds. I was praying that he’d had a stroke, but then I found a small amount of blood on his side, still a bit sticky. He’d broken a blood feather on his side. Not a flight feather or a tail feather, just a regular body feather. I’d found him within an hour of the accident, but he had already lost too much blood. There was hardly any blood in the aviary, yet he couldn’t stay awake. There was nothing that could be done. The vet wasn’t open, and I didn’t have any experience force-feeding birds.
He’d grind his beak every now and then, tucking his head into his back. I was hopeful. He felt well enough to grind his beak and tuck his head in, and he was nice and warm, so maybe if I kept him warm and let him sleep, he’d be okay. But as time passed, his urates started looking off. Like his kidneys were starting to fail.
Rosie came over to us to check on Noah. He had been on my forearm thus far, but she went over to him and started preening him. The she started touching his wing and was trying to preen his flight feathers. I knew he didn’t like it, but he was too tired to tell her off. So I put my hand between her and Noah. I could tell she was angry, but she seemed to understand that I wasn’t trying to be mean.
I had him step-up for me, then I put him on my left shoulder against my neck, and covered him with my hair. This is how we used to snuggle before I adopted Rosie and they decided to pair up. We snuggled together in the aviary for over four hours, with Rosie coming over to check on him every now and then. I softly played his favourite songs on my iPad for him. Then I put him in a carrier, and sat him on the table near me as I forced myself to eat. He was a bit perkier, so I got him a plate of soft tofu and a bit of juice, and I encouraged him to eat and drink. He’d get excited for the food and juice, but he’d fall asleep before he could swallow. I’d call his name, nudge him, and rub his head, but he couldn’t stay awake. I brought him up to my room, and cranked my heater out. It was hot in there and I was sweating, but it was a great temperature for sick birds. I put him on my dresser and I stayed up until 3 am, peeking at him every thirty minutes to make sure he was okay. It had been well over ten hours and he was still alive, so he might make it.
My dad came in at 9 am and woke me up, telling me that Noah had died sometime after I fell asleep. I picked up his stiff little body, and carried him to the aviary and placed him in the middle of the floor, and left him there for a couple of hours. I took him out, and Dad buried him.
For the next few months, Rosie stayed awake until as late as 4 in the morning, calling for him. Whenever she heard a sound, she’d get excited and start calling, thinking it might be him returning to her.
He was only 8 when he died. He‘d lived less than half of his expected lifespan. He’d been healthy his entire life, until one day when a tiny little blood feather broke. He was fine one moment, then was dying the next because of a stupid, unpreventable accident. He was my best friend, and we were supposed to be together for many more years. I miss him everyday. I’m just glad I found him so quickly after his accident, otherwise I‘d be blaming myself for the rest of my life. If I wasn’t able to save him even though I noticed what had happened so soon after he hurt himself…then there was no way I could’ve saved him unless I had been there right when the accident occurred. I didn’t have a matter of hours to save him, I only had a few minutes.