I made a dismal dessert of Cocoa Puffs turned Rice Krispy treats that like...I think three people ate. Took the rest home. They're pretty good after you let them sit around. Thankfully, Nana ate a lot of it before I walked off with the rest. It was nice being around family again. Even better to be around my aunt's fruit salad. She's been making it since forever, and I have a special relationship with the melange of cherries, coconut, Mandarin oranges, pineapple, and other stuff. Something about it just...I dunno...it just makes everything right in the world.
Anyway, I laughed, I drank, I finally saw RoboCop 2014. I drank some brown stuff and contemplated living in a small town once again. It felt good being around family, looking at old pictures, and sleeping in silence so thick that it was actually a little uncomfortable. It was nice to wake up in another place other than my own surroundings. It lasted for all of three days.
Then, I came home.
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There isn't a decorated way to say "my bird died". So, um....my bird died. She was at the bottom of the cage, all straightened out and no longer in this world. Her cage-mate Li'l Ronnie was just standing there. Poor thing was super quiet, just staring into space. I felt horrible that he was all alone. I felt worse that I left Vega to die. I was crushed, because I was hoping she'd stick around a lot longer. I just knew in my heart that she'd be my old girl, sticking around for years and years. Her other cage-mate, Ganymede died about a year/2 years ago. Losing them both pushed me into a reflective sadness that sorta has me re-evaluating everything from bird diets to that time we let them out in the living room.
It also reminded me of their purpose--a midterm gift before the stormy end to my time at Roosevelt Uni. A time when I was rushing to finish so I could "be like my friends on FB", and have a degree. Of course, that time has come and gone. I'm back in school, and not rushing myself to get the degree of my choice. Nevertheless, Vega was there when great changes were in the works.
When she was first purchased, she did this cute little head bob that made my heart melt. I learned how to make gifs by recording her doing it. Before my asthma went into full gear, I let her out in my room. Her favorite activities included-- hopping on my desk to rip paper, gnawing at the buttons on the DirecTV remote, and chewing on my perm rod basket. She also had a thing for pulling on the tiny hairs on my arm and back of my hand, which hurt. I would say "ouch!" she'd stop, then go back to it again. Doggone bird...
Loved her.
I'm going through all of her pics, never realizing how many I took. That was one thing she decided to sit still for--a good picture. Bless her birdy heart, I have so many of her. I guess I'll either post them or make a clipshow. Perhaps, I'll use her favorite song. (but since it's licensed, probably not.) I found an old clip of her singing along, so maybe that's good enough for now.
Although I did my best to give my birdies all the toys, millet, and bird food they could ever ask for, I know I could have done a little more. It's just that birds are fickle eaters, and stuff like fruits and veggies tend to turn if they're not eaten. They would gently nibble on grapes and stuff, but wouldn't finish. They also picked over most vitamin-enriched bird food, save for certain seeds. You really have to keep at it, just to make sure their diet is in order. Contrary to popular belief, seed and seed alone isn't good for them. Shortens their lives.
Of course, we got some new friends for Ronnie right away. A pretty white and blue bird, and a violet 'keet. So far, everyone has been quiet, safe for a few soft chatters and peeps. Ronnie seems to be attempting to adjust, but is awkwardly moving from place-to-place like the newbies are gonna peck his eyes out. When I first brought them home, he sort of peeked into the box as I opened it up. It was cute. :)
Ronnie is pretty docile, so he'll start to sing and preen everybody once things loosen up. I think that these three birds will be my last. I've had birds since I was six years old. My father purchased the first family bird after my grandfather passed away. It was initially for grandma, but I ended up taking the bird with me when I moved out. We got her another bird, who was borderline cute/aggressive. She bit people all the time, but snuggled up to me and kissed my face.
It's hard to imagine a world without a Parakeet in it, but the hurt of losing another feathered friend is sorta taking its toll on me. Not that it's any different with another pet, but the loss of a small bird just...does something to me. I might change my mind. What would life be, without the chirp of a parakeet in the house?
Life goes on.
I should be up writing and churning out final papers. Here I am, churning out sappy stories about dead birds and whatnot. Sunrise, sunset.
R.I.P. Vega.
