Feathered, fickle, and funny.
You drove me (and your siblings) crazy.
Mean spirited you may have been, but you were still my baby.
Feathers dubbed Jewels when you came home with me,
I love you and miss you to this day.
Jewels was a parakeet that I rescued with Angel. They had been a set, and after having come from a home where they were ignored, all they had was each other, and I didn’t want to split them up. Ultimately, Angel was the older of the two, and the meaner and more scared, I spent more time with her trying to tame her, and succeeded, however, the lack of time I spent with Jewels had an effect. She became a bully to my other birds, and eventually, I had to move Angel into the cage with my other bird Dakota for her protection.
As it turned out, both birds were female (Jewels & Angel), so perhaps that is why the issue–two female birds tend not to live well together. Angel, as other blue and white birds I’ve had before her, I believe has a genetic disorder, with the strip above her beak changing colors frequently, cannot reproduce. This means that she does not lay eggs. Jewels, however, was not so lucky.
One day I noticed something bulging that Jewels was trying to push out, and pushing it out was making her bleed. I got scared and took away her food, trying to prevent her from pushing it out and hurting herself, not realizing that I was doing the worst thing possible for her. I’d never had to deal with egg laying before, and certainly not egg binding.
I tried to get her to the vet, however, it happened after hours on the weekend, so most places were simply unwilling to see her, and those who were wanted well over a hundred dollars just to come out–that didn’t include treatment, and they wanted it on the spot. I didn’t have it.
I found a vet that was open on the weekends and would see her for $20 to start with (which I did have), but I had to wait until the next morning. She didn’t make it. She died in my hands in route. I got her cremated a few days later, and mean as she was, it broke my heart. Losing a pet is the hardest part about being a pet parent, because that is your family.
Sometimes I wonder if this is one of the reasons I don’t let people in–people eventually leave. When you open your heart, you give a part of yourself. It’s funny–having birds as pets has taught me a lot about how to deal with people. It’s taught me a lot about my relationship with God as well. I guess that’s the thing–you still have to open your heart to let in a pet in much the way you would let a person in, and they’ve taught me how to do that. They’ve taught me how it feels to be loved, because I never felt that my family ever did love me. Granted, I don’t think they knew how to love themselves, so they didn’t have any love to give, but still. My birds do. Do they all love me? Lol. Probably not. There are three of them, and Baby still doesn’t trust me. Angel has her moments. But Dakota? Dakota and I have been together for almost six years. Yeah, I think Dakota loves me. I know that Hawkeye did. I haven’t mentioned her yet, and I will in a later post, but if you want to read about her now, you can check out my book “Lead Me Home” published on Amazon–there is a section devoted to her.
In the meantime I’ll conclude by saying that I never would have made it through everything if it weren’t for my birds. When you grow up the way that I did, relationships are hard, and it leaves you feeling lonely, so I bought a bird, and it turned out to be one of the best friendships I’ve ever had.