In memory of my dear Pippin

[some-budgie-loves-me]

Pippin
American Budgie
7/02- 3/09

Eight days ago, my precious Pippin passed away.

Prior to starting graduate school, I decided that I wanted to get a bird. After doing some research, I decided I wanted a hand-raised budgie. I found someone who raised budgies, and she said that she would hand-raise the first budgie to hatch from the next clutch. And this was Pippin. (I frequently thanked Pippin for her efficient hatching!) I started handling Pippin when she was 2 weeks old, and I brought her home when she weaned at six weeks. Even from the beginning, Pippin was a sweet, friendly, lively bird….and those qualities only strengthened as she got older. Her avian vet said she was “a little bird who thinks she’s a big bird.”

I have a systemic autoimmune disease and often have times of feeling unwell or in pain. On one of these occasions, when Pippin was about two years old, I was laying on my bed, feeling yucky. She flew over to investigate. I explained that I wasn’t feeling well. Pippin said, “I love you!” This was the first time she ever said that. (She had only said “hello” before.) She understood that I was sick and wanted to comfort me. Later, when she would say this, I often said, “I love you more.” In some ways, I think that’s true. However, Pippin loved me with her whole being. I have had other pets (cats and dogs), and none of them were as attuned to me as Pippin. She always knew where I was in a room, would follow me from room to room, always paused whatever she was doing if I spoke to her, was concerned when I was ill or sad, etc. She was completely devoted to me, and she brought so much joy to my life.

When I moved cross-country, there was no question that I would be taking Pippin with me…though I worried about how she would handle the plane ride. I needn’t have worried. She was awesome! So long as I kept a finger in her cage, stroking her, she was fine. The other passengers kept saying, “Look at this sweet little bird that loves to be pet!” I moved to a new state, not knowing a single person. Pippin was my companion in this adventure.

Whenever I was home, Pippin was out of her cage, hanging out with me. I loved her little birdie noises. Also, even though her cage was only a couple of feet from my bed, she never woke me up in the mornings, even on the weekends when I slept in. If she heard me moving around in bed, she’d make this really low sound. If I responded, she’d get excited and start tweeting. But otherwise, she’d just let me sleep. However, if I woke up in the night and needed reassurance, she’d blow me kisses. At night, when I came to cover her cage, Pippin would stop what she was doing, go up to her “night night” perch, and stick her beak through the bars for a kiss. Pippin also loved to be read to. I’d read her my books, and she also loved for me to read her children’s books. She enjoyed looking at the pictures.

Pippin also loved “talking” on the phone. A number of friends and family members have told me that they’ll miss hearing her little tweets on the other end of the line.

Pippin has always been a healthy bird. I have taken her for yearly “well bird” checks. Last year, she had a respiratory infection, but she quickly recovered when given antibiotics. She loved her Harrison’s, got lots of exercise and the vet always commented about her good health and physique. I was hoping that my Pippin would live into her teens. That was not to be. Early in March, Pippin had a cloacal prolapse. I brought her in to the vet’s. They anesthetized her, did x-rays to check for egg binding or other obstructions and examined her vent. It turned out that she had a cloacal cyst. The vet drained it, gave her a stitch (and E-collar) and sent her home. Over the night, her condition worsened, she was uncomfortable and would only sleep if I was holding her, her belly became swollen, etc. I brought her back to the vet who confirmed that the cyst had re-filled. They kept her for a couple of nights, gave her various medications and she improved. Even with her E-collar and all of the poking, prodding and medicating, the vet staff said that Pippin would get excited and hop to the door of the incubator whenever a person came into the avian ward. She was so friendly and trusting, even in a scary situation. After three days, they let me take her home. However, a few days later, I could see the cyst when she was pooping and she was straining to poop. I brought her back to the vet’s. The vet was able to use a little instrument to get the cyst to prolapse so he could examine it. It was nearly the size of a grape! That large of a cyst in my tiny bird’s vent—I can’t imagine how uncomfortable she must have been! The vet said that he could drain it again, but it would probably recur. He recommended surgical removal and said he could just go in through the vent. I decided to have him do that. The surgery went okay, but Pippin didn’t come out of it very well. In the evening, they suggested I come and try to get her to eat. I had never seen Pippin like this—listless, fluffed up, shivering despite the incubator (until they turned it up to 90 degrees). She didn’t want to eat, but I managed to coax her to eat a little. Soon after, she started vomiting…which clearly made her feel worse. She was in pain. The vet gave her more pain meds and tried gavage feeding (and she vomited some of that too). They were keeping her warm inside the incubator. I stayed with her for four hours with her perched on my hand inside the incubator, talking to her, singing, petting, etc. Around 9:30 PM, I did our “night night” routine, kissed her goodnight and went home. She died soon after I left. My hope is that it was kind of like every other night—my kissing her goodnight and her going to sleep. Throughout this whole cyst ordeal, I had been saying, “Be okay for me, do it for me, Pip.” On Thursday night, after seeing her in so much pain, I told her, “If you can’t, that’s okay too. I still think you’re the best bird, and I love you very much.” I didn’t want her to be in pain…but I am so sad to have lost her.

I love the book The Little Prince, and I'd read this part to Pippin. So many people think that birds are just interchangeable, that one is like another. I'd read this to her and tell her why it's not true, "Because you're MY bird."

The little prince went away, to look again at the roses.
“You are not at all like my rose,” he said. “As yet you are nothing. No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one. You are like my fox when I first knew him. He was only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But I have made him my friend, and now he is unique in all the world.”

And the roses were very much embarrassed.
“You are beautiful, but you are empty,” he went on. “One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you--the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or ever sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose.

And he went back to meet the fox.
“Goodbye,” he said.
“Goodbye,” said the fox. “And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”
“What is essential is invisible to the eye,” the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.

“It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.”

From Chapters 20 and 21 of The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint Exupéry

I miss my bird. The house is so lonely and quiet without her.

I’ll always love you, Pippin, and I’ll always miss you. Thank you so much for being my bird and for being such a good friend to me. I’m sorry that you had to leave so soon. You will not be forgotten.

[spensergirl]

I am so very, very, sorry for your loss. You expressed your love in such a beautiful tribute to your precious bird. I, having just lost my bird last month also, know the pain you feel and I wish you peace and healing and know that one day you will meet your sweet bird again, as we all will.

What a wonderful bird and tribute you wrote. My friend told me that we have to look at the fact that whatever time we had with our birds (or any animal) that we can take some comfort in the fact they were loved until the last second of their life, treated with love and respect had wonderful lives, unlike some animals who people discard or treat like garbage. The time our birds had on earth, whether long or short, was a happy and loving life, of this we can be sure.

I hope this helps some.

[tabooh]

So sorry for your loss, that is so difficult to go through, our heart goes out to you, and the pictures we just amazing thank you for sharing them with us at such a tough time right now!

[some-budgie-loves-me]

Thanks, spencergirl and tabooh. I know that Pippin knew she was loved, and that does help. I just wish that I could have had her longer. I miss her so much.

[mabird]

So, so incredibly sorry for your loss.

What special pictures you've shared... thank you.

[catschair]

I'm sorry for your loss, but glad you had such a wonderful life together. Fly free, little Pippin!

[Valo's Moirana]

i'm all teary after reading your wonderful story... i'm very sorry for your loss.... i can hardly imagine...

[Lisa B]

What a beautiful tribute. thank you for sharing that with us, and I am sorry for your loss...

[reyes97206]

Thank you for sharing your story. I imagine it was hard to get the words out, but I think expressing your pain to others that understand really helps.

My heart aches for your loss, I understand all too well the quiet lonlieness that you refer to. The bond you and your Pippin had was something very special, not everyone can be lucky enough to experience that unconditional love that your little Pippin had for you.


RIP Pippin

[becca623]

I'm very sorry for your loss and that Pippin was only here for a short time. Know that you did everything you could for her and her life was one filled with joy and love. My heart goes out to you. ((((((hugs))))))