I haven't been on for a long time but maybe some of you will remember the rough way Cricket arrived at my home and into my heart. He was a terrific talker (and champion peekabooer) but stayed a fear biter and was always cage aggressive . We sang together(especially the Quaker song) but sadly I did not handle him as much as I should have. Still, he was a happy, healthy little Quaker and was quite a talker with over 200 words and phrases---always in context.
About 8 months ago, I realized he wasn't as energetic, something was off. I rushed him to the avian vet--his white count was so high, and he had lost weight. Over 4 subsequent visits, and meds, and every test, they never found a diagnosis, and guessed it might be leukemia. I decided to just take him home and make him as happy and comfortable as possible.
Now every morning he uses what little strength he has to perch on my shoulder and rub his beak. Some days, there is a puddle of blood on the cage bottom where he has mutilated an underwing, but by the afternoon he is ready to play peekaboo under the cage bottom papers. When he used to say, "What cha doing?" -it meant are you eating something I might like--now it means "pick me up and croon that you love me". He is still able to stretch out his neck and purr , in response.
I'm so sorry that it took him dying to re- establish the intimate closeness we should have had all along. It hurts my heart to think of the time we lost, but I now treasure every morning that I can hold and comfort him.
About 8 months ago, I realized he wasn't as energetic, something was off. I rushed him to the avian vet--his white count was so high, and he had lost weight. Over 4 subsequent visits, and meds, and every test, they never found a diagnosis, and guessed it might be leukemia. I decided to just take him home and make him as happy and comfortable as possible.
Now every morning he uses what little strength he has to perch on my shoulder and rub his beak. Some days, there is a puddle of blood on the cage bottom where he has mutilated an underwing, but by the afternoon he is ready to play peekaboo under the cage bottom papers. When he used to say, "What cha doing?" -it meant are you eating something I might like--now it means "pick me up and croon that you love me". He is still able to stretch out his neck and purr , in response.
I'm so sorry that it took him dying to re- establish the intimate closeness we should have had all along. It hurts my heart to think of the time we lost, but I now treasure every morning that I can hold and comfort him.
Cricket sounds like a special little bird.
