Hi everyone.
I just wanted to make a post here to vent a bit about Stanley. It's only been a few days now, but I find myself truly struggling to adjust. I've lost pets before and I feel like this is the hardest part in a way. I know I made the right decision for him and I couldn't have magically prevented cancer and extended his life, but there's always the thinking I could have done more.
Every morning when I got up I'd greet him and he would come out and we'd exchange kisses. Every time I came upstairs or went downstairs I'd say hello or see you in a bit, every evening I'd tell him I loved him and that I'd see him in the morning. I find myself unsure of what to do in the evenings now. Normally I would spend the last couple hours of my night before bed making sure I gave him my undivided attention- now I've just been watching TV in the evening. I do have two dogs, and I love them very much, but they are more family pets in a way. Stanley was mine. If he needed anything I gave it to him, whether it was attention or food or medicine. His ashes have already come back, and I'm working on getting a box I like. And in a silly way, Stanley changed me. I never understood birds before I got him, and to be entirely honest he was a spur of the moment decision (if a well researched one). I got him about a month after my grandfather died, he saw me through my grandmother passing as well, a great uncle, two dogs, and three other unfortunately (inbred) ill cockatiels. Because of him I hope to pursue a career in wildlife rehabilitation with birds, or even wildlife education.
I miss him so deeply that to be honest, life feels entirely hopeless right now.
I just wanted to make a post here to vent a bit about Stanley. It's only been a few days now, but I find myself truly struggling to adjust. I've lost pets before and I feel like this is the hardest part in a way. I know I made the right decision for him and I couldn't have magically prevented cancer and extended his life, but there's always the thinking I could have done more.
Every morning when I got up I'd greet him and he would come out and we'd exchange kisses. Every time I came upstairs or went downstairs I'd say hello or see you in a bit, every evening I'd tell him I loved him and that I'd see him in the morning. I find myself unsure of what to do in the evenings now. Normally I would spend the last couple hours of my night before bed making sure I gave him my undivided attention- now I've just been watching TV in the evening. I do have two dogs, and I love them very much, but they are more family pets in a way. Stanley was mine. If he needed anything I gave it to him, whether it was attention or food or medicine. His ashes have already come back, and I'm working on getting a box I like. And in a silly way, Stanley changed me. I never understood birds before I got him, and to be entirely honest he was a spur of the moment decision (if a well researched one). I got him about a month after my grandfather died, he saw me through my grandmother passing as well, a great uncle, two dogs, and three other unfortunately (inbred) ill cockatiels. Because of him I hope to pursue a career in wildlife rehabilitation with birds, or even wildlife education.
I miss him so deeply that to be honest, life feels entirely hopeless right now.