Most of you have heard about Reggie’s sad death on Friday. He was fifteen years old, after all, and I had been dreading it for a long time. But I hoped he might live forever! Love birds are related to parrots, and they can live a hundred years! So I had high hopes for Reggie. But about noon on Friday, he started tucking his head down in his nesting cup, so I knew he was dying. I brought his cage upstairs to the kitchen so I could watch over him, and pretty soon he got that filmy look over his eyes. Later, in the evening, I took him out of his cage and held him on my chest, while I talked to him. (Yes, I even said, “Go towards the light, Reggie.”) Dad and I watched a couple of movies, and then we had to go to bed, so I put Reggie back in his cage (which I had thoroughly cleaned–I didn’t want him to die in a dirty cage. ) I put the cage down by the side of our bed, because otherwise I would have been getting up all night long to see how he was doing. He climbed up to the top of the cage and sat on the edge of his nesting cup, with his head against his beloved bell. About eleven, when I was half asleep, I heard him fall, but I didn’t look. At one thirty I woke up and shined my flashlight on the cage, and he was splayed out on the bottom, with his eyes open, not moving. I got up and found him a coffin, and I took the empty cage out to the trash–it was totally beat up, anyway.
Saturday we had a funeral and buried him under the apricot tree. I played “Taps” on the accordion. Since then, we’re getting used to not having a bird. When I walk past the spot where his cage used to be, I reach up to tap on the wires, and there’s nothing there. Dad says we need to get another bird, but I’m not ready for that yet.
Yesterday I went for a long bike ride along the Jordan River. The weather was beautiful, after out snowstorm the day before. I saw a mother duck with nine babies. It reminded me of when you kids were little.
Two very aggressive magpies have taken up residence in our cherry tree. They chase our cats and peck them, and they eat the catfood that I put outside. Tomorrow is Dad’s birthday, and I’m getting him a new pellet gun.
Humm, everything I wrote today is about birds. Looks like I need to move ahead with my life.
Lots of love, Mom