warming up on the cold afternoon he flew through our opened window three years ago
Barry and I said goodbye to Sweet Pea* this afternoon.
I know it's silly, but I have to say it: He was part of a very happy little family.
I can't begin to express how good this tiny, beautiful bird could make us feel. He weighed only one and a half ounces, but he knew how to sing and dance, he knew how to play and just maybe he knew how to make us laugh.
We were pretty inseparable, except for vacation trips and ordinary excursions outside our building (Still, we both occasionally fantasized being able to walk around anywhere with Sweet Pea on either of our shoulders). For over three years he sat and acted up in his cage at the side of our table, and if we were going to be anywhere else in the aprtment for a while, we'd move him there.
He didn't seem to miss anything that was going on around him.
He ate when he was hungry all day long, but around dinner time he waited and then seemed to make a big point of scooting down the side of the cage and eating the moment we turned the lights low and sat down. On some level he seemed to understand that meal's importance to the whole flock.
He sang back to all the birds in the garden, and to the sound of running water (a huge flock of parakeets?).
He loved Mozart and he loved Miss Kittin.
The inevitable consequence of our great affection for this blithe spirit is the grief which follows his absence.
We thought we were going to be bringing him back home when we set out for the veterinarian today.
Sweet Pea had been fighting a liver disorder, probably cancer, for several months. After we talked to the doctor this afternoon, Barry and I were forced to realize not only that there was nothing more that could be done for him, but that we couldn't let him suffer the increasing pain that had already almost totally replaced such great joy.
Right now I'm sitting at the table in a breakfast room which had been kept so very alive by a lttle bundle of green feathers. Yeah, carrying away the empty cage was a killer.
*
This is the spelling Barry uses. I've just noticed for the first time that Barry and I have been typing the name differently for three years. Oh well, spelling rules came late in our language anyway, so we shouldn't stress over this stuff. Although I may adopt his mode from now on, since I've done a number of posts about our little friend in the past you'll have to use "Sweetpea" if you're searching my site.
My sincerest condolences for your loss. The smallest family members are definitely still family.
I too am sorry to hear about your loss. So sad to hear about Sweet Pea! On another note, thanks for entry on Pinter and his speech; it was great to read his analysis. I just finished a chapter today so my head has been in the sand for the last month or more, thus I missed all the good stories.
Great to catch up on your blog--be well, Derrick
Godspeed, Sweet Pea, and bless you for everything...
The fact that you took the time to post such a moving diary shows just how loved Sweet Pea must have been. It sure was fortunate to have found you guys. I know it probably doesn't feel like it now but over time it will get easier to deal with the loss. That doesn't mean you'll forget or stop loving Sweet Pea. It's tough. Hang in there.
When i think about the ten years shared with my beloved birds, i continue to marvel at their intelligence, playfulness, affection, and how sometimes when i was really lucky, i would observe them sleeping - cooing, fragments of their language, little melodies. i still can weep with joy at the memory of seeing tiny, fragile little birds, dreaming. Sweet dreams to you, and to Sweet Pea.
Here's to open windows and open hearts. Kind thoughts are with you.
yes, Jamie, what joy to watch and hear a little bird dream - thank you for the beautiful reminder
I was so sad to hear the news - I am not sure what to say other than my thoughts are with you both, and of course I have my very fond memories of meeting Sweet Pea....
When I was a kid I found a budgie on the front lawn of my property within a flock of sparrows eating seeds off of tall grass. When I approached, the sparrows flew away and the budgie stayed.
Our family had that bird "slider" for 7 years after that. Tame, arrogant, commedian, expert flier, head hair nest builder--total entertainment, a part of our family. Every morning we would open the door of his cage so he could do his laps while we ate breakfast. He was at the center of all our family gatherings and when he passed we all were devistated. I'm sorry to hear about sweet pea.
when i read this i cried.i have three budgies, one of which is named Sweet Pea.I understand the joy and life and light that our little friends bring into our lives and how it feels to have those little bundles of love and affection taken.words can not say how
deeply sorry i am for your loss.SweetPea will be missed.
sorry to hear about sweat pea. :( beautiful bird.
poor thing. :(