Also, if you dress like you belong in First or Business Class when you fly–like you’re going on a business trip at the very least–sometimes they will bump you up for free or a small fee. It helps to look like you’re at least 40, too. That’s my experience, at any rate.
While looking back over this blog last night, deciding which entries to archive to private mode and which entries to leave public, I read my 2018 year-end entry.
Quick refresher: 2018 kind of sucked in that Inigo was diagnosed with a testicular tumor:
All in all, 2018 was a mostly stressful year, one that taught me how to make tough decisions and dedicate myself to seeing trying situations through to the end. That will continue into the first half of 2019, as next year will most certainly bring loss and a tremendous amount of sorrow—I got Inigo in 2002, when he was six months old, and he has been my constant companion through thick and thin—but the most valuable thing I learned in 2018 is to live in the present. I have travel plans for 2019 and much to look forward to later in the year, but I stop short of saying “I can’t wait for that” because, knowing what will come first, I can. Today is its own gift, and I will make the most of it.
Well, that will teach me to be so pessimistic. He’s still chugging along, beyond even his extended prognosis of last August.
I do notice that he’s slowing down. He is losing strength in his good foot. He has arthritis. He hasn’t flown in three years. He needs two kinds of pain medications, and still, every now and then he lets out a tiny little squeal when he turns the wrong way. Sometimes he loses his grip and slips or falls.
Yet aside from his tumor, a lot of that is just plain age. Nanday Conures usually live 20 to 25 years in captivity, and Inigo is now 18 years old, a senior bird. But he still loves his nanners, especially after a bath…
He still keeps an eye on me…
He’s still engaged with toys and new experiences…
And he still tries to eat the phone.
So we take it day by day.
This week he’s in for a treat, as he’s going to birdie camp tomorrow while I travel. He loves my friend. She’s got a way with birds, and she was the one who worked with my Green Cheek Conure, Jimmy, before I adopted him. Jimmy didn’t have the best life before he was relinquished to Phoenix Landing, and she helped him get his spirit back, with the result that we had over five great years together before he passed in 2011. Plus she’s blonde, and Inigo luuuuuurves blondes. (I’m blonde, too.) He always comes back from his visit with her in fine spirits, and he tells me all about it for days.
Just goes to show, though, that he has a strong will to stick around. At this point his last vet–alas, he moved to Florida–didn’t want to give him another prognosis date, and instead settled on the word “indefinitely.” So that’s how my little buddy and I take it: One day at a time, indefinitely.
Welcome to Holidailies 2019!
You know, because I did SO WELL with Horrordailies. But wait, I can explain! See, I’m a journalist in real life and I had a whole bunch of deadlines, some of which were for a four-part series, and…
Okay, no excuse. And I am not making any promises on this, either, because I’m traveling a bit this month. That said, I have topics selected, posts outlined, time blocked off for writing, and the very best of intentions intended. And the background image may change. I just found it ten minutes ago.
Being that it’s already 11:20, I’m going with a Sunday Stealing for tonight.