Williebird
Sitting on the front steps
WILLIE my precious gift, and companion: NOV 17 1988 - AUG 1 2010
Willie always knew he wanted me to be his companion. That fateful day at the pet store, with his 2 sisters he revealed his enthusiasm. He jumped up on my arm, mesmerized by the white strap of my summer wrist watch. He was picking me from the crowd as his adopted buddy.
Running around the pen with all the other birds, in the communal enclosure, he was unique, He had a partial, if nearly missing tail, broken from all the scrapes and running on the ground. He was after all still a baby. Only 8 months but he knew he wanted me. My heart melted. Even at this early age he was muttering in a cute childlike voice. Willie, Willie, Willie. How could I adopt this sweet bundle of green.
It took maxing out 2 credit cards, and borrowing a carrier but it happened.
The first vet visit was reassuring for me and traumatic for poor baby Willie. The broken tail feathers, which outnumbered the normally grown ones, had to come out. They would grow back, but a parrot with NO Tail? The stumped little guy was so sweet.
Learning all about parrots was an intense focus for many weeks, months and years. We became palls. Boy did we discover all sorts of goodies. Peaches were wonderful, onions were not. Strawberry yoghurt was a special treat, blueberry yoghurt was not. Blueberries however were delicious.
How we discovered his love of chicken wings, I don’t recall, all I know was he knew that the marrow was the delicious and most nutritious part. All sorts of discoveries came on a regular basis. We had many training sessions. Singing came naturally, but whistling was his forte. You could not out whistle this guy. He was Hello to everyone, even passing dogs. The more curious cats, would get a beak on the tail, they knew better than to mess with Willie.
Willie had favourites, and thru the years he would come to adore, Grandma, (who wouldn’t with all the treats that came his way). He knew how to work a room, the begging and the carrying on came naturally.
Cuddles became a ritual, Every evening his cuddles would be given either while watching TV , in HIS green chair, or sitting on a warm shoulder surfing the internet. He loved the warmth, and cuddles. He knew when to say the perfect response, “GOOD BOY” always touched me, always made me feel his love.
Twenty One and a half wonderful years, half my life I woke to the glorious fussing and carryings on of my little green chicken. Twenty One and a half wonderfully years, I would get a sweet goodnight upon covering up my little buddy for bed. He would great me upon return from work, at the end of the day.
I don’t understand what happened, overnight, but when I uncovered him, he was not his usual self. I was not able to help my little pal, I was powerless. I was to witness my sweet Willie’s demise.
Later that afternoon he muttered, not his cute signature Willie, Willie, Willie but the sorrowful , painful murmur of death. My sweet little buddy. I was there, cuddling you and you breathed you last.
My life has been enriched. I will remember you FOREVER.
Willie always knew he wanted me to be his companion. That fateful day at the pet store, with his 2 sisters he revealed his enthusiasm. He jumped up on my arm, mesmerized by the white strap of my summer wrist watch. He was picking me from the crowd as his adopted buddy.
Running around the pen with all the other birds, in the communal enclosure, he was unique, He had a partial, if nearly missing tail, broken from all the scrapes and running on the ground. He was after all still a baby. Only 8 months but he knew he wanted me. My heart melted. Even at this early age he was muttering in a cute childlike voice. Willie, Willie, Willie. How could I adopt this sweet bundle of green.
It took maxing out 2 credit cards, and borrowing a carrier but it happened.
The first vet visit was reassuring for me and traumatic for poor baby Willie. The broken tail feathers, which outnumbered the normally grown ones, had to come out. They would grow back, but a parrot with NO Tail? The stumped little guy was so sweet.
Learning all about parrots was an intense focus for many weeks, months and years. We became palls. Boy did we discover all sorts of goodies. Peaches were wonderful, onions were not. Strawberry yoghurt was a special treat, blueberry yoghurt was not. Blueberries however were delicious.
How we discovered his love of chicken wings, I don’t recall, all I know was he knew that the marrow was the delicious and most nutritious part. All sorts of discoveries came on a regular basis. We had many training sessions. Singing came naturally, but whistling was his forte. You could not out whistle this guy. He was Hello to everyone, even passing dogs. The more curious cats, would get a beak on the tail, they knew better than to mess with Willie.
Willie had favourites, and thru the years he would come to adore, Grandma, (who wouldn’t with all the treats that came his way). He knew how to work a room, the begging and the carrying on came naturally.
Cuddles became a ritual, Every evening his cuddles would be given either while watching TV , in HIS green chair, or sitting on a warm shoulder surfing the internet. He loved the warmth, and cuddles. He knew when to say the perfect response, “GOOD BOY” always touched me, always made me feel his love.
Twenty One and a half wonderful years, half my life I woke to the glorious fussing and carryings on of my little green chicken. Twenty One and a half wonderfully years, I would get a sweet goodnight upon covering up my little buddy for bed. He would great me upon return from work, at the end of the day.
I don’t understand what happened, overnight, but when I uncovered him, he was not his usual self. I was not able to help my little pal, I was powerless. I was to witness my sweet Willie’s demise.
Later that afternoon he muttered, not his cute signature Willie, Willie, Willie but the sorrowful , painful murmur of death. My sweet little buddy. I was there, cuddling you and you breathed you last.
My life has been enriched. I will remember you FOREVER.
