I have a little dutch blue lovebird that I raised from a tiny one-week old chick. I named him Sailor because my son was in the navy at the time and he became a very beloved part of my little family of pets -- one of the pack, if you will. He loved to bark with Chelsea.
Sadly, Sailor died yesterday morning. He would have been 12 in March, so he lived a wonderfully long life for a bird. He greeted every morning with enthusiastic chirps and squawks, and he was a happy little bird. In typical lovebird fashion, he had a peacock feather that was well-loved, and he'd love that feather at the most inopportune times, especially when I had dinner guests. He'd eat eggs from my plate, which I always thought was weirdly cannibalistic in a bird sort of way. He loved to hide under my hair when it was long. His favorite busy-bird activity was perforating paper -- he'd punch holes in paper towels, newspapers, but his favorite was crisp cardstock. I was his mom when he was a baby, and then his best girl when he grew older. He'd threaten the dogs when he was out and they came too close to me, and Chelsea has a scar on her nose as a result of being bitten by him.
Sailor has been cranky in an old bird kind of way for several years now and hasn't wanted to come out of his cage in a very long time. He was still warm when I found him, so I knew he hadn't been gone long. I cuddled him in a way that I haven't been able to for years, and I shed many tears over him yesterday morning. Coming on the heels of losing Doodlebug a few weeks ago, it was almost a little bit too much to bear.
My house is very silent now, and at some point I probably will get another bird to fill the void. It won't ever be able to take Sailor's place, though. Like Doodlebug, Sailor's personality, heart and soul were much, much larger than life.
I hope he and Doodlebug have found each other. And that he doesn't bite his nose ...
Sadly, Sailor died yesterday morning. He would have been 12 in March, so he lived a wonderfully long life for a bird. He greeted every morning with enthusiastic chirps and squawks, and he was a happy little bird. In typical lovebird fashion, he had a peacock feather that was well-loved, and he'd love that feather at the most inopportune times, especially when I had dinner guests. He'd eat eggs from my plate, which I always thought was weirdly cannibalistic in a bird sort of way. He loved to hide under my hair when it was long. His favorite busy-bird activity was perforating paper -- he'd punch holes in paper towels, newspapers, but his favorite was crisp cardstock. I was his mom when he was a baby, and then his best girl when he grew older. He'd threaten the dogs when he was out and they came too close to me, and Chelsea has a scar on her nose as a result of being bitten by him.
Sailor has been cranky in an old bird kind of way for several years now and hasn't wanted to come out of his cage in a very long time. He was still warm when I found him, so I knew he hadn't been gone long. I cuddled him in a way that I haven't been able to for years, and I shed many tears over him yesterday morning. Coming on the heels of losing Doodlebug a few weeks ago, it was almost a little bit too much to bear.
My house is very silent now, and at some point I probably will get another bird to fill the void. It won't ever be able to take Sailor's place, though. Like Doodlebug, Sailor's personality, heart and soul were much, much larger than life.
I hope he and Doodlebug have found each other. And that he doesn't bite his nose ...
1 comment:
Oh Vicki
This is awful. I'm so sorry.
I've been thinking about you and Bernie Berlin and her menagerie and I wonder if there isn't something there...just a thought.
Hang on and hang in and know you are loved.
xoxo
Miss Margot
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