MeinRabe
Strolling the yard
- Joined
- 6/7/17
- Messages
- 105
- Real Name
- Kay
Hello everyone. Wasn't sure where to put this. I don't want to make this a long post, for fear that no one will read it. I also want to make it somewhat anonymous, so please don't try to dig up my past posts, since I plan on discussing personal topics. Forewarning: This post discusses a bird's death. I am also extremely exhausted, so there may be typos or weird phrases.
A bit of background: I grew up in an abusive household with an alcoholic parent. I was so severely neglected I had a social worker. Yet the one thing that kept me sane was my pet budgie. I would do anything to make sure my bird was well taken care of. Every Christmas, my distant relatives would offer me clothes, and I would beg them for bird toys and treats. This bird was my little slice of heaven. My only reprieve from the real world. So I spent all my spare time teaching him tricks and reading every book on birds I could find. That little budgie died when he was 6, premature for a budgie I now understand. This was most likely due to his unhealthy diet and inbreeding since I got him from a Petco.
As a result of my neglect, I was formally diagnosed as clinically depressed at age 11, and was essentially told I would not be able to lift my depression at age 16 for the rest of my life, but only manage it.
I grew older, but I did not outgrow birds. The obsession simply grew with me. I discovered online communities, such as this one, where I could indulge with other posters' love of birds. Look at their bird photos, and their new purchases, while my peers were following fashion icons on the internet in a similar fashion. Birds were my absolute hobby and the cornerstone of my life. I would plan outings about birds, or drive to visit a new bird store to buy a new bird toy. Around that time, due to my new stable financial situation, I bought the bird of my dreams! He was perfect! Perfect in every way. We spent every moment I wasn't at work together. We had a bond no one in my personal life really understood.
Then, one day, he started to molt. But it wasn't like any other molt I'd seen. Not online, not in photographs, not in person, not in books. It just continued to get worse. I thought maybe I wasn't giving him enough vitamins, so I bought a bunch off Amazon. Nothing helped. It couldn't be PBFD, I thought, because the woman who sold him to me promised she got her birds checked. Eventually I brought him to an Avian vet, who confirmed the worst. I cried the entire day. I cried so severely they moved me to another part of the vet's office because I was upsetting other patrons. My soul bird would go on to live 4 years more than the expectancy they gave him...
Once I got the diagnosis, I became a shut in. I could not log on to avian avenue anymore, to look at the cute pictures of birds who were not robbed of their feathers. I couldn't go to bird stores because of possible contamination. No more bird fairs. No more zoos. It was just me and my bird and what I bought off the internet. Yet we spent every day together. I disinfected his cage with f10 to prevent any infection. I bought him any gadget or new age cure I was suggested on here. I would spray his dry little feet with aloe and his feathers with soother. He would look at me, every day, I knew he loved me as much as I loved him. His beak grinding would help me fall asleep.
Years passed.
I got a bad illness past these few weeks. It allowed me to be at home with my bird since I was on bed rest. I feel so grateful for that time together... Because my bird had a brain aneurysm and died in the early morning. It was so violent and sudden. I had all of 20 seconds before my baby was gone. Blood gushed from his beak, and from his eyes so that after he passed his eyeball was almost popped out. As I held his little warm body I couldn't believe God would take him away from me. I am so lost without him. He was my everything. I structured my life around him. I don't know what to do with myself. I know my relationship with this bird was perhaps not the healthiest, but it's what keeps me going and my depression in check. I could never hurt myself or waver from being functional because my bird needed me. Now he's gone.
I can't imagine a life without a him. All I want is him back. I've already tossed the cage in sections away, and sprayed it with f10. Same for everything else of his. His corner of the house is empty now.
Is there any way for me to ever get another bird? No one will ever be as good as my soul bird, but I feel so lost. Is there any way for me to disinfect my home in a couple months? I already have a steam cleaner getting shipped to my house... Or is there anyway for me to adopt a PBFD+ bird? I just feel so empty without him. The hope I can one day get another bird is the only thing getting me through the pain.
Any advice is welcomed.
A bit of background: I grew up in an abusive household with an alcoholic parent. I was so severely neglected I had a social worker. Yet the one thing that kept me sane was my pet budgie. I would do anything to make sure my bird was well taken care of. Every Christmas, my distant relatives would offer me clothes, and I would beg them for bird toys and treats. This bird was my little slice of heaven. My only reprieve from the real world. So I spent all my spare time teaching him tricks and reading every book on birds I could find. That little budgie died when he was 6, premature for a budgie I now understand. This was most likely due to his unhealthy diet and inbreeding since I got him from a Petco.
As a result of my neglect, I was formally diagnosed as clinically depressed at age 11, and was essentially told I would not be able to lift my depression at age 16 for the rest of my life, but only manage it.
I grew older, but I did not outgrow birds. The obsession simply grew with me. I discovered online communities, such as this one, where I could indulge with other posters' love of birds. Look at their bird photos, and their new purchases, while my peers were following fashion icons on the internet in a similar fashion. Birds were my absolute hobby and the cornerstone of my life. I would plan outings about birds, or drive to visit a new bird store to buy a new bird toy. Around that time, due to my new stable financial situation, I bought the bird of my dreams! He was perfect! Perfect in every way. We spent every moment I wasn't at work together. We had a bond no one in my personal life really understood.
Then, one day, he started to molt. But it wasn't like any other molt I'd seen. Not online, not in photographs, not in person, not in books. It just continued to get worse. I thought maybe I wasn't giving him enough vitamins, so I bought a bunch off Amazon. Nothing helped. It couldn't be PBFD, I thought, because the woman who sold him to me promised she got her birds checked. Eventually I brought him to an Avian vet, who confirmed the worst. I cried the entire day. I cried so severely they moved me to another part of the vet's office because I was upsetting other patrons. My soul bird would go on to live 4 years more than the expectancy they gave him...
Once I got the diagnosis, I became a shut in. I could not log on to avian avenue anymore, to look at the cute pictures of birds who were not robbed of their feathers. I couldn't go to bird stores because of possible contamination. No more bird fairs. No more zoos. It was just me and my bird and what I bought off the internet. Yet we spent every day together. I disinfected his cage with f10 to prevent any infection. I bought him any gadget or new age cure I was suggested on here. I would spray his dry little feet with aloe and his feathers with soother. He would look at me, every day, I knew he loved me as much as I loved him. His beak grinding would help me fall asleep.
Years passed.
I got a bad illness past these few weeks. It allowed me to be at home with my bird since I was on bed rest. I feel so grateful for that time together... Because my bird had a brain aneurysm and died in the early morning. It was so violent and sudden. I had all of 20 seconds before my baby was gone. Blood gushed from his beak, and from his eyes so that after he passed his eyeball was almost popped out. As I held his little warm body I couldn't believe God would take him away from me. I am so lost without him. He was my everything. I structured my life around him. I don't know what to do with myself. I know my relationship with this bird was perhaps not the healthiest, but it's what keeps me going and my depression in check. I could never hurt myself or waver from being functional because my bird needed me. Now he's gone.
I can't imagine a life without a him. All I want is him back. I've already tossed the cage in sections away, and sprayed it with f10. Same for everything else of his. His corner of the house is empty now.
Is there any way for me to ever get another bird? No one will ever be as good as my soul bird, but I feel so lost. Is there any way for me to disinfect my home in a couple months? I already have a steam cleaner getting shipped to my house... Or is there anyway for me to adopt a PBFD+ bird? I just feel so empty without him. The hope I can one day get another bird is the only thing getting me through the pain.
Any advice is welcomed.