July 30, 2008

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  Kiwi
  

  Kiwi, you will always be missed.  The house is quiet without your calls, even with the other birds still there.  You, who for the last seven years flew around the house as you pleased, from the glass chandelier to the kitchen light fixture to the bird stand, and flew out into the hallway to find us whenever we stepped out of sight, who always got his bit off the dinner table, who always stayed out of trouble, who was so healthy and happy we couldn't have seen it coming, who'd fly out and find mom for safety whenever the vacuum was turned on, who would climb down the side of Lorita the Amazon's cage to sleep near her when you were left out overnight, who was smart enough to chew discarded feathers into neck-and-pin-feather-scratching tools, and would snuggle up and try to preen whomever's neck you were on, and who took to watching over Newton the parrotlet when you were out.

  I will remember your little trilling caw in my ear, on my shoulder, and that you trusted me enough to let me help you get those itchy pin feathers every time I returned home for a visit.  Even though I was away more for the last few months with work and my studies, you held on long enough for me to come see you in the hospital a few times, to wing greet me and tail wag those last few times and tried to step up on my finger through the plastic walls.  Though the infection's complications took you quickly and painlessly in the end, we know you loved us all and we all loved you back.  We fought alongside you and did everything we could, but you were taken before your time.  You will be missed.

  • 2:47 pm
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