Honesty
03-28-2014, 09:26 PM
I have just seen this on FB :( Such a tragedy :th_crycry:
This lady is sharing her story as a warning to others!!
I'm sharing this as a sad warning to those of you who own multiple species of birds. Its not for discussion or debate but simply a warning of how terrible accidents can happen. I don't know the lady but my heart bleeds for her and her sweet Poppy bird who is now at Rainbow Bridge. Please read and then take care when you go out.
An accident i truly wouldn't wish on anyone.
RIP Poppy Bird, say hello to my Harry.
This story is so sad. It breaks my heart for everyone involved. This is not about passing judgment or blame. It is a reminder to all of us to always be on alert for our precious feathered friends under our care.
My Poppy Bird is dead. He is gone, and I am broken.
This past Sunday, he was viciously attacked by my Red Lored Amazon, Nyah. It was not a peaceful, nor a painless death. It was horrific and he suffered immensely. Was it an accident? Yes. It is my fault? Yes. He trusted me to take care of him, to keep him safe, and I failed him.
Poppy was with me for 4 years, and was one of the sweetest, most docile cockatoos I have ever had the pleasure of being part of my life, part of my family.
Poppy was rarely in his cage. He was always content sitting on top, playing with his toys and watching me as I went about my daily chores. Even if on the rare occasion he wondered down off his cage, he never, ever left his room…until the last few months. After over 3 years of living with me, he decided that I was to be his chosen one. One day I opened his cage door, and he followed me to my room. After that it became ritual. Every morning he would walk his little bowlegged walk, all the way to my room, and climb up on the bed for “our time.”
Some days, when I needed to get things done without him trying to get to me, I would put a cardboard box barricade up, and this worked most of the time, but if he was really adamant, he would fly to get to me. He was not an avid flyer, but he could be a determined little boy.
This past Sunday morning was one of those days I needed to get some things done. I put his barricade up, and went about cleaning as I do in the mornings. He was fine, playing on his cage.
I had to leave for a quick appointment, and as I was walking out I noticed he was not on top of his cage, but I thought to myself, oh he must be on the floor chewing on the cardboard box as he does sometimes. I didn't look to make sure. *It is a decision I will regret for the rest of my life*. I left for my appointment and didn't return until about 20 minutes later. When I saw he was still not on top of his cage, I peeked over to see where he was. He was gone.
He must have tried to get to me before I left. I starting calling and searching for him. He was not in the main bird room, nor my room. Pure terror went through me as I ran to the amazon room, the only other place he could be.
What I saw when I looked over into the room is *forever embedded in my brain*. My boy, my sweet precious soul, my Poppy who trusted me to keep him safe, always, was battered and bloodied. He was trying to stand, but all I could see was his mangled little body, ripped feathers, and blood. I can’t imagine what he must have went through. He was waiting for me to save him. To think about it rips my heart out. How could I let this happen?
Everything after that is a blur. I grabbed him, wrapped him loosely in a towel, and was just saying no, no, no, oh God, I am sorry, I am so sorry. I knew it was bad. I was trying to hold him and call all of my avian vet contacts. Leaving message after message, crying my heart out. No one would answer. I called Kathy and she came immediately. We both called every emergency clinic in Nashville and the surrounding areas, and each time we got the same answer….”we don’t see exotics”. I have never felt so helpless. We were about to drive to the University of Tennessee (4 hours away) but I knew he was not going to make it.
I was holding my precious boy and sobbing. He was dying. I knew it. He looked at me while I was holding him to my chest, and died shortly after.
I am sick. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t stop crying, and *I can’t get the images to stop*. My boy is dead because I did not take the proper precautions. I should have kept the Amazon room door closed at all times. I never imagined he would fly in there by accident, but he did, and now he is gone.
Now as I prepare all the birds their meals, there is one less bowl, and I lose it. When I pull in the driveway, he is no longer there peeking out the window at me waiting for me to come in….there is just an empty cage. So many reminders. I am running on auto pilot.
I am shattered, I am broken, I am guilt ridden, but most of all, I miss my boy. Oh, I miss him so much it’s hard to breathe. A part of me has died with him. I love you Poppy. I am so sorry. I failed you. Please forgive me. I miss you. You are forever in my heart.
I wrote this mostly for me. To try and give myself some kind of closure. If you message me, text me, email me, or call me, please forgive me if I do not respond. I’m just not ready. Thank you.
And please dont be too harsh. There is not one of you out there that can hate me more than I hate myself right now.
RIP Poppy – Aug 11th 1980 – March 23rd 2014.
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This lady is sharing her story as a warning to others!!
I'm sharing this as a sad warning to those of you who own multiple species of birds. Its not for discussion or debate but simply a warning of how terrible accidents can happen. I don't know the lady but my heart bleeds for her and her sweet Poppy bird who is now at Rainbow Bridge. Please read and then take care when you go out.
An accident i truly wouldn't wish on anyone.
RIP Poppy Bird, say hello to my Harry.
This story is so sad. It breaks my heart for everyone involved. This is not about passing judgment or blame. It is a reminder to all of us to always be on alert for our precious feathered friends under our care.
My Poppy Bird is dead. He is gone, and I am broken.
This past Sunday, he was viciously attacked by my Red Lored Amazon, Nyah. It was not a peaceful, nor a painless death. It was horrific and he suffered immensely. Was it an accident? Yes. It is my fault? Yes. He trusted me to take care of him, to keep him safe, and I failed him.
Poppy was with me for 4 years, and was one of the sweetest, most docile cockatoos I have ever had the pleasure of being part of my life, part of my family.
Poppy was rarely in his cage. He was always content sitting on top, playing with his toys and watching me as I went about my daily chores. Even if on the rare occasion he wondered down off his cage, he never, ever left his room…until the last few months. After over 3 years of living with me, he decided that I was to be his chosen one. One day I opened his cage door, and he followed me to my room. After that it became ritual. Every morning he would walk his little bowlegged walk, all the way to my room, and climb up on the bed for “our time.”
Some days, when I needed to get things done without him trying to get to me, I would put a cardboard box barricade up, and this worked most of the time, but if he was really adamant, he would fly to get to me. He was not an avid flyer, but he could be a determined little boy.
This past Sunday morning was one of those days I needed to get some things done. I put his barricade up, and went about cleaning as I do in the mornings. He was fine, playing on his cage.
I had to leave for a quick appointment, and as I was walking out I noticed he was not on top of his cage, but I thought to myself, oh he must be on the floor chewing on the cardboard box as he does sometimes. I didn't look to make sure. *It is a decision I will regret for the rest of my life*. I left for my appointment and didn't return until about 20 minutes later. When I saw he was still not on top of his cage, I peeked over to see where he was. He was gone.
He must have tried to get to me before I left. I starting calling and searching for him. He was not in the main bird room, nor my room. Pure terror went through me as I ran to the amazon room, the only other place he could be.
What I saw when I looked over into the room is *forever embedded in my brain*. My boy, my sweet precious soul, my Poppy who trusted me to keep him safe, always, was battered and bloodied. He was trying to stand, but all I could see was his mangled little body, ripped feathers, and blood. I can’t imagine what he must have went through. He was waiting for me to save him. To think about it rips my heart out. How could I let this happen?
Everything after that is a blur. I grabbed him, wrapped him loosely in a towel, and was just saying no, no, no, oh God, I am sorry, I am so sorry. I knew it was bad. I was trying to hold him and call all of my avian vet contacts. Leaving message after message, crying my heart out. No one would answer. I called Kathy and she came immediately. We both called every emergency clinic in Nashville and the surrounding areas, and each time we got the same answer….”we don’t see exotics”. I have never felt so helpless. We were about to drive to the University of Tennessee (4 hours away) but I knew he was not going to make it.
I was holding my precious boy and sobbing. He was dying. I knew it. He looked at me while I was holding him to my chest, and died shortly after.
I am sick. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t stop crying, and *I can’t get the images to stop*. My boy is dead because I did not take the proper precautions. I should have kept the Amazon room door closed at all times. I never imagined he would fly in there by accident, but he did, and now he is gone.
Now as I prepare all the birds their meals, there is one less bowl, and I lose it. When I pull in the driveway, he is no longer there peeking out the window at me waiting for me to come in….there is just an empty cage. So many reminders. I am running on auto pilot.
I am shattered, I am broken, I am guilt ridden, but most of all, I miss my boy. Oh, I miss him so much it’s hard to breathe. A part of me has died with him. I love you Poppy. I am so sorry. I failed you. Please forgive me. I miss you. You are forever in my heart.
I wrote this mostly for me. To try and give myself some kind of closure. If you message me, text me, email me, or call me, please forgive me if I do not respond. I’m just not ready. Thank you.
And please dont be too harsh. There is not one of you out there that can hate me more than I hate myself right now.
RIP Poppy – Aug 11th 1980 – March 23rd 2014.
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