On June 17, 1992 the little pink creature merged into our world. He (or she) was immediately snatched from the nest to be handfed by his new Mom, Me. He was the most beautiful baby in the entire world. Being the first time I had hand fed from day one I was a little nervous, to say the least. We both made it through the first few feedings, and it was non eventful after that.
We were inseparable. He was my baby, my Baby BoyBlue. At the time of Babys arrival I was suffering from clinical depression. Therewere days that I did not get out of bed, only to feed the birds. Now I had a reason to getup, to function. He was my reason for living. Baby did not have a cage, as he didnot need one. Because if he was not with me was with a birdy-sitter. Hewas a little clown and followed me every where. We would spend hours playing or justsitting and cuddling. If he was home and I pulled into the drive her would yellMa! and run to the door. There were times that I feel that I took all that forgranted. When I wished he would just leave me alone for one minute. I would give anythingto have him back, following me around. Not having any human children I can say thathe was my first child. The bond is one that I never had before and will probablynever have again.
I began to take Baby to the talks that Igave at schools and different organizations. When Baby was just over one year I did a talkfor the local bird clubs annual bird mart. A place I had been the year before withno problems. This year they now were allowing bird venders and exhibit birds. I rememberthesick bird to this day. It was a shamrock macaw. Baby and I approached the bird to alertthe owner that it was regurgitating. They said that he was nervous with all the people. Ithough it a bit odd that they would let the bird stay in that situation if it was thatnervous. But who was I to say. I had just given Baby a death sentence. Not knowing thatmuch about PDD I was not concerned. Until about a month later when Baby, who slept on aperch next to my bed, woke me up frantically pulling out his feathers. He acted as if hewas being attacked by something. The look in his eyes was terror, which scared me enoughto sit up with him all night. I called the vet in the morning, which was not an avian vet,and he said to bring Baby for an exam. By then he was regurgitating and passing wholeseeds. I had also read more about PDD and other diseases. Once at the vet he was diagnosedas having an upset crop. I was told to give him chicken, rice and a sulfa drug. I suggestedthe possibility of Macaw Wasting and was told that it was very rare and that was not theproblem. Needless to say he did not get any better. I was handfeeding him and doingall I could to help. This vet was the closest to avian there was anywhere in the area. Andhe had helped with minor problems I had had in the past, so I assumed he knew what he wastalking about. It did not take long for him to deteriorate to the point of not beingable to perch. I then took him back to the vet who said that all he needed was fluids andthat I could pick him up around five that night. Not knowing, I did not even saygood bye. I told him that I would see him later. I was told that they would call if therewas any news if not to just come and pick him up at five. I called at three that afternoonto see how he was doing and was notified that he had passed at eleven that morning, onlyone hour after I had left him. I lost it, I went hysterical. I cannot describe the pain,it was unbearable. I cried for days. I still have days that it is hard, but I know that heis with me and is waiting for me at the rainbow bridge.
Graphic by Cat and Dawg Designs
Background by: Sheo Wolf