Chirpie, 12, had his say

...

It was a young budgie and being an artist, Barbara was quick to admire its colouration, the soft golden yellow with a white bib dappled with blue dots and a splash of azure above its beak. Barbara constructed a perch by spearing a pencil through the walls of a box and made her visitor as comfortable as possible.

Then the search began. She put up notices. Had any neighbour lost a bird? Or want a bird? There were no takers.

A relative provided a birdcage and the library had books on the care and feeding of budgies. Her visitor took up permanent residence in the apartment and acquired a name: Chirpie.

After about a year, a new tenant was added. An unwanted cat, brown-coated with flecks of gold, was adopted and named Bali.

.....

One evening, Barbara was alone with her two pets. Suddenly, she heard a voice say: "Hi, Sweetie." It was Chirpie! Surprised and delighted, Barbara began to teach her pupil every day to produce words and even sentences. His vocabulary increased to 35 words - "hubba hubba", "zing zing", "kiss kiss", "where's Bali?"; "Chirpie want a kiss" - plus coughing and kissing sounds and a wolf whistle.

Chirpie's great delight was to hear a tap turned on full blast. He would then uplift Barbara spirits by accompanying the torrent of water with a torrent of water with a torrent of song.

When released from the cage. he would fly joyfully about, strut across the table with his own peculiar waddley gait, give Barbara a kiss on her nose with the tip of his tongue and revel in having the side of his jaw lightly scratched.

After 12 happy years, there came the day of sadness. Chirpie's left claw was not clutching his perch in the normal way. Barbara tried to help him keep his balance, but with his usual show of independence, he resisted any assistance and struggled to remain upright on his own. Gently, Barbara took him from the cage and cradled him in the warmth of her hand. He opened his eyes wide and looked up into her face. The rhythmic pulsating in his breast began to slow, and then ceased.

Barbara lined a prettily decorated box with the softest fleece and placed the wee body inside, together with his favourite mirror. She buried him beside the brightest flower in her garden.

Dear Chirpie, no more your cheerful greetings. Your merry little songs are stilled. You were such a tiny creature to fill so large a place in Barbara's life - so fragile of body, so stout of heart, so huge of soul.

Kay Kay was a female yellow-green budgie.

In early spring of 2009, I noticed she was slightly limping; by May she also showed symptoms of reproductive and/or kidney cancer. Quickly she became paralyzed and had a growth on the spine in June. Otherwise, she was very healthy and happy and still enjoyed flying up and rested at the highest shelf of the wall cabinet in the room.

Even though the other birds did not bother her too much. I decided to remove her from them and kept her in a home-made hospital cage. Meanwhile, the weather turned very usually cold for this June and July. I needed to keep her cage warm with a 50W infra-red lamp. As the cage did not have a thermostat, I got up several times in the night to check the temperature and the humidity inside the cage. In the day, I allowed the other birds to visit her by getting through a gap at the bottom of the sliding glass door.

Sadly, she was losing weight rapidly. She had a fighting spirit. She preferred dry seeds and was still eager to peck into her seed cups, but I began to use a dropper to feed her with liquid supplement. I used a formula of soy protein, glucose, vitamins, ground seeds and spring water. Initially, she gained back her weight. Before the force-feeding started, her weight was 28 grams, her weight went up to 34 grams in a week. She still could eat a little dry seed on her own and told me she could heartily finish the whole seed cups. I almost thought she could beat the cancer and could recover soon.

In her last week, she, however, realized she really depended on my liquid food and antibiotics. Suddenly, her weight dropped again and she was losing strength. It seemed that the illness might have progressed into other internal organs.

One day, she walked a little after the morning check-up and feeding. Back in the cage, she sat down and went into alternative modes of waking and sleeping. I realized it could be her last day and I had to give her up. I got out my camera and took her last photo. In hours, she was dying. At the end I put her on my palm and watched her giving up her last breath.

So, it seems to be a sad story of the ordinary passing of a tiny bird. Some would think it is silly to waste time as no one has ever seen a budgie recovers from cancer. A vet had told me a bird with liver cancer would not be able to eat finally. Nevertheless, in the few short months, Kay Kay and I had become knowing much better of each other. It was an experience I had never before, even when my father died. He also needed the help from my mother and the nurses for feeding and toilet routines. But, the experience of taking care of Kay Kay really teaches me about love.

When future circumstances rise again, the decision to prolong the terminal sickness of an animal friend would however still only depend on my resources and personal energy. I still prefer a natural death for them if they do not suffer in pain. I believe they would prefer living to death when situations allow for them to choose.