Tag: pet birds

Letter to Inigo

Dear Inigo:

It has been a whole year since we said goodbye. A lot has happened since then, most of it not so great, and it has been hard to get through it all without you by my side. Yes, little one, I know you’re still here, in my heart, in the sky, in the birds who come to visit. I can still feel you sitting on my chest or spreading your wings across my back, shoulder to shoulder in a birdie hug. But I miss your chatter, your dancing, your woodchipping, the way you held out your wings when I gave you a shower, the way you tilted your head when you were curious about something, the way you gobbled up your nanners…and blueberries…and pasta…and apple…and sweet peppers…and more nanners. You were–and remain–the Nanner King!

Little buddy, you taught me so much while you were here: dedication, devotion, unconditional love, and that we should appreciate our loved ones while they are still with us on Earth. At times you taught me patience, too, although I’m still working on that, ha ha.

I don’t know when we’ll be reunited. I mean, you already sent me back once! But when that day comes, I know the last thing I will see on Earth is you flying down to greet me, maybe with your brudduh Jimmy not far behind you, hovering and waiting for me to rise and join you. Until that day comes, I’ll be grateful for every time you visit in a dream, and I will do my best to find the happiness you’d want me to have. I love you now and always.

xoxo,

The Mommy

A Nanday Conure bird sitting on a rope perch. He has a green body and a black head, and his feathers are slightly damp.
Slightly damp Nanner King, in the pose he knew would get him whatever he wanted.

Lost and Found

Grief does things to people. It has been bothering me that I don’t have any of the orange feathers from Inigo’s legs. I last saw one in the kitchen earlier this year, and foolishly thinking that there would be more chances to save one, I didn’t pay it much mind and eventually it disappeared. I had about given up when tonight I got the strongest feeling that there was one somewhere in the apartment. I looked in his carrier. No. I took apart the dust trap in the dryer. Nope, not there either, though I did find a couple of his woodchips. 

“The kitchen.”

It was like a whisper. 

But I thought, no, that one is gone.

“Another.”

So I started looking in all the places that I haven’t cleaned in the last two weeks, if ever, places where a tiny feather might have landed and been covered in dust.

I got a flashlight and pulled the refrigerator out, and there it was, on the floor, between the refrigerator and the wall, with a little dust bunny. It’s not the same one I lost. That one was a little fuller. But it’s a feather from one of his “socks” and it is one of the most precious things I will ever have. 

Just when I start to think his presence is fading and that he’s leaving, he reminds me that he never will.