He was very sad on Monday and was definitely having trouble moving. I'd rearranged his perches on Sunday night to make it easier for him.

Ironically, for the last few weeks, Snowy has been so hungry he's been eating most of what I give him. Every morning James makes oatmeal and then I feed him one oat at the time; he seems very happy about it. He also was still loving the wheat bread. Still didn't like sweets like fruit. The only thing was that I noticed he could only eat a few bites at the time before he began regurgitation, and he was drinking a lot. So it could have been something wrong with his crop, or his kidneys. And I noticed that a lot of the time he didn't want to be scratched under the chin anymore.

When I emerged from the bedroom Tuesday morning he was fluffed up on his sleeping perch looking about normal, but when I put my hand in the cage a little later on he didn't want to be touched and slipped off trying to get away from me. He usually climbs right back up, but now he couldn't, and he was cawing at me to get away from him. I finally had him out and cradled in my hands where he just lay there helpless. I had to cath off James, so I put Snowy in his carry box to be safe, and rushed back. I called the vet who asked if I wanted to bring him in, but it was obvious he was dying right before my eyes and a ride would take an hour, so she stayed on the phone with me through the whole thing. (I got a condolence card in the mail a few days later.) I was going to reach in and cradle him again, but he cawed at me when I tried so I just held the box and talked to him softly and told him it was okay to fly away. Snowy finally crawled into a corner of the box and took his final breath.

It's hard to write about this. Poor little thing. He was hurting so much and I couldn't even comfort him.

 

Snowdrift Stormy Young, November 15, 2013 - February 21, 2023

And I still had to finish the laundry and do the chores, same as always.

I took an Amazon box and cut it down, then lined it with part of his flannel cage cover, and put Snowy in with his favorite toy. He is in the freezer until we can find someone to bury him, as neither James nor I have the strength to dig a hole. James can't even walk into the back yard because it's so uneven.

We did not remain unscathed. At bedtime James had shoulder/chest pain and we basically spent the night at Urgent Care. There was nothing wrong with his heart, but his creatitine was in the 4's and he has another UTI. So we got to bed about five a.m. and cancelled out of physiotherapy. Thursday we had to go to James' infusion, where he mused about the results of the test. He's afraid that he's going to have to go back on dialysis soon.

There were things to elevate the week, but they didn't quite register. Wednesday night Barnes & Noble had an online seminar with Rupert Holmes about his new book The McMasters Guide to Homicide: Murder Your Employer. This is the first in a series of mystery books about the McMaster's school which teaches you how to commit the perfect murder. Think of it as Hogwarts for adults who want to kill. It's delightfully twisty, following three characters, Cliff, Gemma, and Dulcie, who all want to kill three reprehensible and deserving characters for different reasons.

We also went to Books-a-Million on Friday and had lunch at Uncle Maddio's, and on Saturday James went to his model contest. I couldn't stand the quiet house, so went to Sam's Club, and Walmart, and also to Book Nook.

Labels: birds, books, death, health, pets, sickness

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