I had a bird. She was a cockatiel, and if you don’t know what that is, look it up. She was annoying sometimes, but that was only when mom would come home, then she’d go crazy. She was literally abscessed with her, when she was out of the cage, she would fly to mom’s shoulder out of nowhere. She passed away not too long ago. Because of her annoyingness, we had moved her cage downstairs in the basement, which is also where the cats are. No, she didn’t get attacked, the cats had no interest in her. It’s my chore to do the cat litter boxes, and the day she passed, I didn’t notice it at first. After I took the litter out, I went back downstairs to hang out with her a little, as I do pretty much everyday. I noticed she wasn’t herself. Her chirps and squawks became little high-pitched squeaks. She was slipping on her branches. She couldn’t stand. She let me pet her on her wings and back, which she doesn’t usually do. I lifted her out of her cage, and she sat in my hands. She was lethargic. At that moment, Mom came downstairs for something, and I told her Oscar was being weird. She, in turn, took the bird and went upstairs. She wrapped her up in a small cockatiel-sized blanket and set her on her lap. Then she did some research. Her and I learned that in the wild, birds who are ill will hide it, act like nothing’s wrong with them to avoid being prey, since predators like an easy kill. So it was her instinct to hide her illness. So that means she was ill the day before, but she was making it unnoticeable. She hid it until the day she passed. After a few hours of stroking her gently and comforting her, mom went into her room. A few minutes later, she came out with a lifeless Oscar. Her and I were crying, we loved her, and we buried her in a little opening in the woods in our yard, still wrapped up. We even marked her grave with a little cross with flowers on it. Before she was buried, however, Mom pulled a few feathers out from her wings and tail, and gave them to me. After coming into the house and calming our tears, she told me that she died with love. What that means is the other two birds that we’ve had died with no one around. But Oscar died in Mom’s hands, when she went to her room. She told me that Oscar looked up at her face, her eyes got wide, she started breathing fast, her heart got fast, and then it just stopped. I still miss her to this day.

2 Responses

  1. blog0rama at |

    Little creatures have little lives, but they make such a huge impact on our hearts. Rest in peace, Oscar.


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