BoomBoom
Well-known member
- May 2, 2012
- 1,722
- 58
- Parrots
- Boomer (Sun Conure 9 yrs), Pewpew (Budgie 5 yrs), Ulap (Budgie 2 yrs), Eight & Kiki (Beloved Budgies, RIP)
Eight is my beautiful gray-blue parakeet. I met him when I visited a mom and pop pet store who sometimes had birds for adoption. I was looking for a budgie to adopt. They had none at the time, only ones for sale. I hung around inside the store for a good while, thinking whether I should just purchase a budgie instead. As I interacted with the rescued, bigger parrots out on the floor, the owner came up to me and said that she may have a budgie for me. She took me to a small back room where all her breeders were. Up on the top shelf was a lone budgie in a small cage numbered ā8.ā She said his mate passed away recently. He looked well, but was very small and nervous. She wasnāt sure how old he was but that said that he was in his twilight years. She was just going to give him to me without any adoption fee. I said I wanted to think about it. I wasnāt sure I wanted to get attached to a senior bird only to lose him to old age too soon. After more time spent on the sales floor and a long internal debate, I decided to adopt him. I wanted to give him a nice, comfortable life in his last days. On the way out, I asked the shop owner what his name was and she said that heās never had one. She asked me if I watched Stranger Things, I did. She recommended I named him Eight after his cage number. I thought that was perfect.
Eight settled in well at home. He was such a quiet bird but quite afraid of humans. He was a crazy flier and not in a good way. He had zero control and was always panic flying, running into walls and always crash landing that I was worried heād get injured. He loved millet but eventually learned to curiously sample chop mix. My proudest moment was having him fly to the flock on the bedroom standing perch. I took a photo of that moment which Iām sharing below. My other parakeet, Pewpew liked him a lot. Iād sometimes catch them grooming each other, something Pewpew never did with my deceased budgie, Kiki. Together, they made a quiet, relaxed, cozy pair.
Eight passed away Wednesday 12/19/18 at around 7:40 AM. I took him to see his avian vet on Monday 12/17/18 because he appeared very sick on Sunday, the day before. The vet diagnosed him with a septic infection and told me his chances of survival was very low. We were going to do our best to turn it around. He gave him 2 antibiotic injections - Doxycycline/Dex and another I donāt recognize labeled S.Q. - I.M. W/O V. I was also given Baytril which I am to orally administer to Eight with a syringe 2 times daily for 10 days. Since he was not eating or drinking on his own, Iāve been syringe feeding him mushed roudybush pellets. Vet okayed it but said babyfood would go down easier and so I was instructed to feed him 3 times daily.
Eight was actively eating and his poop looked healthy before Sunday. Now looking back, in the weeks leading up to Sunday, I noticed that he was flying off his perch more and settling on the cage floor before flying back up. Some times when I uncover their cage in the morning, Iād find that heās slept on the floor or clung to the cage bar which heās never done before. Heād always fly back as soon as he saw me turn on the light. Heās always been clumsy so I thought maybe it was arthritis catching up with him (he was a senior bird and it was getting colder). I wondered, since he was always running into walls, that maybe his eye sight was failing. I gave them more night light and it seemed to work for the most part. I didnāt see him on the cage floor as much anymore. This changed mid Sunday when he was not eating and seemed weaker and his flying was labored. By the afternoon, I moved him to my āhospitalā carrier so he does not injure himself in the big cage until I can get him to the vet. I kept him comfortably close to a space heater and started syringe feeding him.
Although my vetās prognosis was grim, I still came back from the visit on Monday feeling positive that Eight would pull through. Vet said that if he is still alive by Tuesday, his chances of survival may go up. He was alive Tuesday but continued to deteriorate, hardly even able to get up and basically falling on his side when he tried to walk. Still, I kept hoping heād pull through. Iāll leave out most of the details because itās so hard for me and would only depress readers. Letās just say Eight had a very strong will to live, but his body was failing fast. He was not able to properly poop so his vent got very soiled which I clean as best as I can. What got to me was that, despite being so weak, he still tried to eat millet when I placed it near him but would be so drained that heād fall on top of it. I sang him his last lullaby on Tuesday 4 AM when I checked in on him. He was still alive when I fed and cleaned him at 7:10 AM on Wednesday. I talked to him and cupped him in my hands. He gave a sweet chirp before I nested him back on a freshly bedding a pile of millet sprays. He passed away peacefully at 7:40 AM.
Even though I only had him for about 6 months, I still bawled like a baby. I knew he wouldnāt be with us for very long but I thought I still had some years with him. I donāt think heās ever had human affection before but I hope I was able to give him that. He liked being sung to and sweet talked. He would always grind his beak contentedly. I sang a lullaby to him and Pewpew every night before I turned the lights off. He would always grind his beak to this, comfortable on his chosen perch. In the last month of his life, I was happy that he has allowed me to rub his feet, his neck and beak.
I wanted to share my tribute to Eight. This little bird taught me about caring for someone in their last days and staying strong through the toughest and most heartbreaking moments. I buried him in my familyās garden on a bad of millet sprays which he loved so much. Right beside Kiki. I hope he is flying free and chasing angels in the sky with Kiki. I love you, Eight. Thank you for spending some time with me and the flock. We will miss you.
Eight settled in well at home. He was such a quiet bird but quite afraid of humans. He was a crazy flier and not in a good way. He had zero control and was always panic flying, running into walls and always crash landing that I was worried heād get injured. He loved millet but eventually learned to curiously sample chop mix. My proudest moment was having him fly to the flock on the bedroom standing perch. I took a photo of that moment which Iām sharing below. My other parakeet, Pewpew liked him a lot. Iād sometimes catch them grooming each other, something Pewpew never did with my deceased budgie, Kiki. Together, they made a quiet, relaxed, cozy pair.
Eight passed away Wednesday 12/19/18 at around 7:40 AM. I took him to see his avian vet on Monday 12/17/18 because he appeared very sick on Sunday, the day before. The vet diagnosed him with a septic infection and told me his chances of survival was very low. We were going to do our best to turn it around. He gave him 2 antibiotic injections - Doxycycline/Dex and another I donāt recognize labeled S.Q. - I.M. W/O V. I was also given Baytril which I am to orally administer to Eight with a syringe 2 times daily for 10 days. Since he was not eating or drinking on his own, Iāve been syringe feeding him mushed roudybush pellets. Vet okayed it but said babyfood would go down easier and so I was instructed to feed him 3 times daily.
Eight was actively eating and his poop looked healthy before Sunday. Now looking back, in the weeks leading up to Sunday, I noticed that he was flying off his perch more and settling on the cage floor before flying back up. Some times when I uncover their cage in the morning, Iād find that heās slept on the floor or clung to the cage bar which heās never done before. Heād always fly back as soon as he saw me turn on the light. Heās always been clumsy so I thought maybe it was arthritis catching up with him (he was a senior bird and it was getting colder). I wondered, since he was always running into walls, that maybe his eye sight was failing. I gave them more night light and it seemed to work for the most part. I didnāt see him on the cage floor as much anymore. This changed mid Sunday when he was not eating and seemed weaker and his flying was labored. By the afternoon, I moved him to my āhospitalā carrier so he does not injure himself in the big cage until I can get him to the vet. I kept him comfortably close to a space heater and started syringe feeding him.
Although my vetās prognosis was grim, I still came back from the visit on Monday feeling positive that Eight would pull through. Vet said that if he is still alive by Tuesday, his chances of survival may go up. He was alive Tuesday but continued to deteriorate, hardly even able to get up and basically falling on his side when he tried to walk. Still, I kept hoping heād pull through. Iāll leave out most of the details because itās so hard for me and would only depress readers. Letās just say Eight had a very strong will to live, but his body was failing fast. He was not able to properly poop so his vent got very soiled which I clean as best as I can. What got to me was that, despite being so weak, he still tried to eat millet when I placed it near him but would be so drained that heād fall on top of it. I sang him his last lullaby on Tuesday 4 AM when I checked in on him. He was still alive when I fed and cleaned him at 7:10 AM on Wednesday. I talked to him and cupped him in my hands. He gave a sweet chirp before I nested him back on a freshly bedding a pile of millet sprays. He passed away peacefully at 7:40 AM.
Even though I only had him for about 6 months, I still bawled like a baby. I knew he wouldnāt be with us for very long but I thought I still had some years with him. I donāt think heās ever had human affection before but I hope I was able to give him that. He liked being sung to and sweet talked. He would always grind his beak contentedly. I sang a lullaby to him and Pewpew every night before I turned the lights off. He would always grind his beak to this, comfortable on his chosen perch. In the last month of his life, I was happy that he has allowed me to rub his feet, his neck and beak.
I wanted to share my tribute to Eight. This little bird taught me about caring for someone in their last days and staying strong through the toughest and most heartbreaking moments. I buried him in my familyās garden on a bad of millet sprays which he loved so much. Right beside Kiki. I hope he is flying free and chasing angels in the sky with Kiki. I love you, Eight. Thank you for spending some time with me and the flock. We will miss you.
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You have my condolences.
