Tag: pet grief

Year-End Survey

This is going around another website where I like to write.

What did you do in 2023 that you’d never done before?
Taken a beloved pet to say goodbye. Go to Poland. Have a heart attack.

Did you keep your New Years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I mostly did. I will absolutely have a few resolutions for 2024, and will be revisiting a couple from 2023.

Did anyone close to you give birth?
No.

Did anyone close to you die?
This beautiful bird, Inigo the Nanday Conure, AKA The Nanner King. I’m still grieving. Twenty-one years together is a long time. What I wouldn’t give for one more day.

A Nanday Conure bird named Inigo.
Nanner King forever, forever my best friend.

Did anyone close to you get married?
No.

What countries did you visit?
Poland.

What would you like to have in 2024 that you lacked in 2023?
Career fulfillment.

What dates from 2023 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
March 10, when Inigo and I said goodbye. September 4, seeing Poets of the Fall in Warsaw. October 25, when I had my heart attack.

What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Surviving.

What was your biggest failure?
I would have liked to have saved more money, but I guess I did that by default when I had to cancel my trips to England and Finland.

Did you suffer illness or injury?
Yes. I’ve been through it.

What was the best thing you bought?
The weekend in Poland.

Whose behavior merited celebration?
My buddy Liz. I could not have gotten through this year without her. Also, all the friends who offered to help, send me food, bring me food, etc. after my heart attack. I was able to manage by myself, but it’s a balm to know that help is there if I need it.

Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
No one could make me depressed, but appalled? “Miranda.” (If you know, you know.) I’m pretty disgusted by Elmo Muskrat, too. And most of the Supreme Court.

Where did most of your money go?
Rent.

What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Poland! It was a great time with great people.

What song will always remind you of 2023?
“Through the Years,” by Kenny Rogers. Inigo loved country music and after we said goodbye that song came into my head and felt like a message from him. It still comes into my head at random moments, and then I feel his presence.

Compared to this time last year, are you happier or sadder:
Sadder. Grief will do that to you.

Older or wiser:
Older, of course. We all are. Wiser, yes. This was a terrible year.

Thinner or fatter:
Slightly thinner, but not much.

Richer or poorer:
The same.

What do you wish you’d done more of?
Travel.

What do you wish you’d done less of?
Work.

How did you spend Christmas?
Chilling. That said, I had a more socially active holiday season this year than I’ve had in 10 years.

How will you be spending New Year’s Eve?
Likely with friends, if I feel up to it. The last time I saw friends was a trivia night and by 9:00 I was feeling loopy and exhausted, so I hope I have the energy.

What was your favorite TV program?
What We Do In the Shadows. I heart Nandor.

Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
Not hate, but I lost respect for a few people and no longer want anything to do with them.

What was the best book you read?
I haven’t finished anything I started, so nothing.

What was your greatest musical discovery?
Paris Paloma. Here’s my Song of the Year:

What did you want and get?
Out of the United States, but not for long enough.

What did you want and not get?
Six winning numbers. Or five.

What was your favorite film of this year?
The only new release I saw was Barbie, so I guess that wins by default.

What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
Got take-out in which the fortune cookie had no fortune.

What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Five winning numbers. I don’t even need the sixth. Just enough to get me out of the rat race. A million with a multiplier would be just fine.

How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2023?
I don’t have one, but click here to see my rather neglected URSTYLE profile.

What kept you sane?
Friends.

Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
I’ve lost my taste for celebrities and public figures, actually.

What political issue stirred you the most?
Reproductive rights. Don’t believe in abortion? Don’t have one. Oh, you think it’s wrong but you couldn’t have one anyway because you’re male and can’t get pregnant? Then stay out of two things: Vaginas and the way.

Who do you miss?
Inigo, with all my heart.

Who was the best new person/people you met?
Aleks and Claire. Met them in Poland and they’re great ladies.

Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2023:
I’m at an age where pretty much it’s all just confirmation of what I’ve already learned, but for this year, will go with “Don’t forget to just fucking chill,” from Masood Boomgaard, AKA Self-Help Singh

A quote that sums up your year:
The only way out is through.

Heart at Home

Thought I’d wrap up this week’s tales of weirdness at various apartments by saying that nothing unpleasant has ever happened where I live now. Anything that has happened here that one could consider otherworldly has come from Inigo.

I’ve chronicled his passing and a few of the early signs of his continued presence on this website, but I’ve felt his presence here many, many times. I feel it the strongest when I’m in the living room playing games on my tablet or goofing off coloring with the TV on in the background. Sometimes I feel him pretty strongly when I’m in his bathroom, the guest bathroom where I used to give him baths. He loved that bathroom and loved getting spritzed with a water bottle there. And he comes to visit in dreams. Every night I tell him and another birdie I once had, Jimmy the Green Cheek, to come and visit if they like and have no important birdie business to attend to, and sometimes they take me up on it.

I feel Inigo’s presence in all kinds of places, too: On a line at a salad shop when one of his favorite songs came on the speakers (“Wake Me Up,” by Avicii and Aloe Blacc); in Warsaw just before a Poets of the Fall concert started, during a recorded intro by Marko Saaresto where at one point he talks about loved ones; on walks either alone or with friends; and while I write, especially about Inigo himself. He loves hearing how wonderful he is, heh.

There is still grief, however. There are times when my heart breaks all over again for missing his physical presence—the softness of his feathers, the warmth of his little body when he sat on my chest as we watched TV together, the spiciness of his scent, the silliness of our conversations. They say grief comes in waves, and every now and then the waves feel like a tsunami. One night it was particularly bad and I went over to his house and picked up the little towels he once slept upon to see if they still smelled like him. The far corner where he used to sleep was warm. Just the corner, the spot where he would hunker down and pull back the edges to make a little pillow to rest his chin. The rest of the towels were cool, and only the one on top was warm. It was like he had just been there a moment before. That has only happened once since then, so I leave the towels there and the cage door open in case he wants to come and hang out. He loved to hang out on the door, too.

Photo of a Nanday Conure sitting on the open door of a cage in a living room.
Inigo, just hanging out being a happy, curious bird.

Overall, this is a pretty clear apartment, though. It had a happy vibe when I first came to look at it. I believe the tenants before me came in as a couple and moved out as a family of four. It looked like my home office was once a nursery, and a toddler had drawn on one of the walls. There are still faint vestiges of chalk drawings on the bricks on the balcony, too—hearts, happy faces, and stick figures. The landlord installed new flooring and new fixtures and appliances for me, too.  

One of those fixtures did give me a fright one night, however. Imagine watching a ghost-hunting show and this happens:

Yep, the water just turned on by itself. It kept happening, which is how I was able to take a video of it, and I figured out that pulling the handle forward when I turned off the faucet would prevent it. That was last November, and I just keep forgetting to have someone from maintenance look at it. Plus, I tested it over the summer and nothing happened, so it’s probably some sort of part that contracts in the dry winter air and needs to be replaced.

I hope.

Fly High, Fly Free

Yesterday, Inigo the Nanner King and I said our goodbye.

We arrived at the veterinarian’s at 11:40. While we were in the visiting room, at 11:50, I remembered Steph, a customer service rep at Birdhism, said she would post Inigo as Chubby Bird of the Day at 11:45. I opened Facebook and it was the first post in my feed.

“There you are, Inigo! There you are, for the whole world to see! There you are!”

He looked at the phone and made kisses! He was so happy!

Shortly after that, once he got used to his surroundings, he let me know he was ready, though he did get tangled in my hair when I tried to pass him to the tech for sedation. He let out a squeak when she gave him the injection.

“That is the last pain you will ever feel, my baby bird.”

She handed him back to me, and I held him on me, over my heart, on the Mickey Mouse sweatshirt I was wearing the day I met him. It was his comfort shirt. She left, and I hummed his favorite song to him as he fell asleep, “Silent Night.”

We stayed like that for 10 minutes. I told him so very many times how special he was, how much I loved him, how much everybody loved him.

Then I pushed the button for the veterinarian and the tech to come in, and I held him and sang to him again after they put the heart needle in.

I looked up at the ceiling, trying not to fall apart and weep all over him, and when I looked back down at him, his eyes were open. He was looking up at me.

“I’m here. I’m here. I’m here. You’re not alone. I’m here. It’s okay to go. I love you. I’m here. It’s okay.”

He closed his eyes, took a little breath, so faint it was barely two tiny clicks, and was gone. He slipped away gently, knowing only peace.

When I called the tech back in, I told her he opened his eyes before he died. She said sometimes birds do that to say goodbye.

Inigo, my beautiful little Nanner King, I will miss you every day for the rest of my life. You honored me in an incomparable way when you climbed over your cagemate, clung to the door, and then flew over, landed on me, and would not come off. You chose me that long-ago April afternoon, and I hope you know how much joy and love you brought into my life. Then you honored me again when you opened your eyes in your final moments here, so I was the last thing you saw.

Mommy loves you, Inigo, now and always.