Oliver, as tiny as he was, left a big gap in the household. Even as late as Thanksgiving, I was still having nightmares about him.
One day, checking out Pet Supplies Plus next to the DaVita Bellemeade facility, I heard a familiar sound. Having gone into the store once before, I thought they only sold dog and cat supplies, but when I walked to the very rear, there, up over my head, were two small cages with about ten budgies total in them.

Over the month of December, I was in there once, maybe twice a week. There was a yellow adult female and the rest appeared to be juveniles with baby stripes down to their ceres. There was one problem: I'm 5'2" and these budgies were literally over my head. I wanted to see them close up. But I had three I had my eye on even from my lowly viewpoint: a yellow and olive-green one with very dark wings, a lighter yellow and green one (marked sort of the way Bandit had been), and a blue one with a white face. I was avoiding the very last, because I didn't want a budgie that looked so much like Oliver. I was worried that my memories of Oliver would overwhelm the new bird.

Finally, today I walked into the store and told the friendly employee who greeted me about my problem. He got permission for me to stand on a store stool and there I could look all those cute little budgie faces in the eye. It was warm and I was wearing my sun hat, and the birds looked a bit askance at it, but none of them was  panicked. I talked to them awhile, and it turned out that the blue one with the white face was the most curious. I was nervous as I paid my bill up front, and talked to the little guy all the way home.

I had already scrubbed out the cage and under the cage two weeks earlier. I filled the food and water containers, and then took the little fellow out of his cardboard carry box. He actually sat in my hands for a few minutes and let me scratch him under the chin before I put him in the cage. And then, to start him out on the right foot, I put on some Christmas music for him.

I said nothing to James until he had gotten to the top of the stairs, then commented, "You might want to check out things to your left." He blinked and looked searchingly at the bookcase, the secretary, the bird cage...and then smiled and said, "Well, hi, there!" The bird blinked back.

I'd thought about names even before I went to the store. When I got him home, he felt brave enough to pipe up a succession of baby chirps, and I remembered Disney's Piper, the short about the sanderling chick who learns not to be afraid of the water. What better for this piping fledgling but Piper?

[Later: I'm bringing this one up right. He's already watched Law & Order, and Law & Order: Criminal Intent, and sang along to the theme music!]

Labels: birds, budgies

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 11:09:00 PM

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By this week, Oliver had turned into Beth March. He seemed sometimes to gain ground—once, for instance, we uncovered him and found him up on the high perch that both Snowy and Schuyler had favored—but despite the antibiotics and the anti-inflammatory, he never seemed to totally gain. I was losing him little by little as each day went by. I think he's been sick for so long that, like Beth, he just couldn't fight the tide going out any longer. He'll pretty much just sit in my hand and fluff up and sleep.

Tuesday I totally forgot the appointment with the vet wasn't until Thursday and took the poor guy all the way over to Vinings. Dr. Bostick wasn't even in the office, but the nurse tried to cheer me up. On the way home, as we were turning off South Cobb Drive, a big wedge of geese flew overhead, right over our heads, honking loudly. I told Oliver maybe someday he could fly with the geese.

He was so droopy Wednesday morning, plus he had fallen off his perch at one point (I put some hand towels at the bottom of the cage so he had a soft place to land), but after eating some millet and being vaporized he seemed to perk up. And then I took a nap and when I got up to dress to pick up James, he was doing badly again. He bobbled when he sat on his perch, and otherwise he's asleep or sort of out of it.

He was so bad by the time I had to leave I took him with me because I thought he was dying. Cuddled him for the rest of the night. Instead of letting him sleep in the cage, I put food and water in the carry box and covered him with facecloths and he slept on my night table Wednesday night. At six he fell off the perch and I had to cuddle him before putting him back in and going back to bed.

Our appointment was today at eleven and I knew what I had to do. Oliver went flying with the geese at about 11:30 a.m. Dr. Bostick took one look at him—but she didn't have to, I already knew. They were all really sweet once they saw how bad he was.

Fly, little one, second star to the right and straight on til morning.


My dad died on August 1 in 1985. God, I hate summer.

Labels: birds, budgies, death, sickness

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 5:46:00 PM

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Well, now I know I'm depressed between James' medical troubles and Oliver being sick: I took about an hour to myself on Monday, since I had to go to Kaiser after dropping James off at dialysis to pick up some meds for him, to go to Barnes & Noble to cheer up. It didn't work. I was totally miserable walking around, even though I did buy Leather and Lark and Ashley Poston's new book. If going to a bookstore can't cheer me up, how will I manage?

Something very odd happened Monday night. We buy snack cakes for desserts; you know, Hostess cupcakes, things like that. We had a box of Ding Dongs which we had already eaten two of the cakes. When I opened one for dessert and took a small bite of it, a terrible chemical smell came out of the cake, like...I don't know, like some kind of floor or counter cleaner. I opened the cake I was about to give to James and it had the same smell! I threw them both away, and Tuesday I was terribly sick, sleepy and nauseated and burping all day, so I just threw the rest of the box away, too. So glad I didn't ignore the smell and eat the whole thing, or let James eat it.

We had leftover turkey and rice for supper on Friday, and a good thing because dialysis caused us to be ready just in time for Opening Ceremonies of the Olympics. Bon spectacle on the Seine for sure, although some stuff was just bizarre, like the decapitated Marie Antoinette projections. We were surprised at all the furor about "the Last Supper" because we watched the whole thing and never interpreted what happened in that manner. Later they explained this was a tribute to pagan gods or whatever? Ah, well, they're French after all. (Just kidding.) Anyway, I loved that they rang the bells of Notre Dame for the first time since the fire! Also the wonderful light show from the Eiffel Tower and the fact that the Olympic torch is actually a balloon in honor of the Montgolfier brothers! Enjoyed the fact that the countries' teams got to ride in boats down the Seine as well, but felt bad for everyone being drenched with rain.

I had no idea why Snoop Dogg was getting all this attention and Lady Gaga performing was okay, but Celine Dion singing was quite beautiful. I looked up the "stiff person" disease that she has and the symptoms sound gruesome, and even loud sounds can trigger an attack. I hope she was okay after the performance.

Saturday James got his new glasses. Finally! Costco was a mess to navigate on a Saturday.

I don't see any improvement in poor Oliver. He's asleep most of the time although he has been eating, and I've been vaporizing him every day. Sometimes I can get him to eat fruit or some oatmeal, but he is letting me cuddle him more and more, not because, I think, that he is getting used to me and likes it, but because he's just too worn out to fight back.

Labels: birds, books, budgies, food, Olympics, shopping, sickness

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 10:18:00 PM

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We prepped for Urgent Care Monday morning, but we never made it. James made it down the stairs okay, but when he got to the door to the garage, he got one foot down, and could not get the other foot out the door. Then his knees began to fail. Luckily we had a shower chair in the garage that we had bought for his sister Candy and never got to give her. I shifted it under him and he was able to sit. Then I called 911.

The paramedics came and his vitals were okay, but he definitely couldn't walk anymore. They called for an ambulance, but there was an hour's wait. Instead they helped me get him in the car and we went to the emergency room at St. Joseph's. He wasn't in triage ten minutes when they said he "was the sickest person in the emergency room" and we went right back.

To sum up, his bloodwork was terrible; his creatitine was sky high, his BUN 175, his GFR down to 8, and he had much too much potassium in his system. Right before I had to leave to get the animals to bed, he was assigned a room, 508.

I woke up about four feeling uneasy. I noticed Kaiser had called me three times and the phone hadn't rung, even though I disabled Do Not Disturb. I called the hospital and James wasn't in 508 anymore; he was in 207, in Intensive Care. I promptly had hysterics. The switchboard at the hospital was very nice and got me in touch with his floor, where the nurse assured me he was fine. His potassium was still high, so they had transferred him into ICU.

This was a grubby little room with the toilet behind a shower curtain and nowhere for me to sit, so I sat on the toilet, and later on a folding chair which I would recommend as a torture device. I had bought Zaxby's wings for lunch/supper and felt guilty because no one would let James eat because "we don't have the doctor's permission." The doctor wandered in about four and said, "But I gave orders that he could eat." Sigh. This became a lietmotif for the week: he would need something, but it would need a doctor's approval, but the nurse never got it, like having his sleeping pill at night. He went 72 hours without sleep because they wouldn't give him one except the first night. He also never got miconozole powder for the fungal infection he had on his lower abdomen, and the skin was all cracked and red.

They had, I learned, stuck a tube in his neck and had to dialyze him in the middle of the night. They took two liters of fluid off him.

So the time had finally come, the thing we have been fighting off for six years. He's on kidney dialysis for good now.

Wednesday I was going to pick up a meal at Tin Drum, but the line was out the door. I grabbed a burger and fries instead and was starving all day. I did check out the cafeteria: they had ... shudder ... fried haddock or something spicy chicken. Gross. They also moved James back to the fifth floor (502), he'd had dialysis, and was dead bored. You know it's dull when there's nothing on but Law & Order: SVU.

I did get my Tin Drum on Thursday, but I wouldn't eat until they took James downstairs (several hours late) to get a permacath put in. Why a permacath, you ask? Didn't James have fistula surgery last August because Dr. Kongara knew the dialysis was coming because his BUN was rising? Yes he did. And the surgeon told James that the fistula was fine. But the hospital wouldn't use it because the port area "wasn't big enough." (They gave him two ultrasounds on the arm. We never did hear how they came out.)

We were so bored we watched, James at the hospital, me at home, the debate tonight. It is pathetic that, in this huge country, these are the best two candidates for President we have. Daniel Webster, Charles Sumner, Abraham Lincoln, Frederick Douglass, W.E.B. DuBois, and other statesmen are turning in their graves.

By Friday, James still hadn't had any sleep. I got Zaxby's again because it was just easier, only to arrive and discover they were sending him home. Of course, that took hours and ... surprise! ... they sent him home at rush hour. They had a whole bunch of plans for at home physical therapy and arranged for us to have dialysis at the DaVita center two miles from our house in the Smyrna Kroger shopping center, and they said he was well enough, but when we got home he didn't have enough strength to get up the four steps to the foyer where the lift chair is.

Oh, Dr. Austin waltzed in before I showed up on Friday. His first words to James were, "I hear you almost died the other night." What the heck??? Yes, his potassium was so high that, if I hadn't taken him to the emergency room on Monday, his heart probably would have stopped by Wednesday!

So, for the second time this week, we called the fire department. God bless them!

With a bunch of sleep James was feeling better next day; he even cooked breakfast. I did chores on Saturday and we were both sick on Sunday (food poisoning?).

Monday I hope he will be strong enough to get down and up those four steps, because he has to go to dialysis.

In other news, I finally found an avian vet for Oliver (who is indeed an Oliver and not an Olivia). I took him to Riverview Animal Hospital where we used to take Leia so long ago. It turns out Oliver has an infection in his air sacs (sort of like bird pneumonia). I think he may have gotten it when he boarded in March. I have to give him medicine twice a day, and he has to stay in a hospital cage (surrounded with a blanket except in front) and I'm to eat with him to make him eat more. I had him in the spare bedroom while James was in the hospital. He hates taking the meds and the fact that I had his wings clipped so he wouldn't get away from me, and I feel like such a heel.

Labels: budgies, food, health, pets, politics, sickness

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 10:57:00 PM

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A better photo of Oliver.

Labels: budgies

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 10:51:00 PM

(3) COMMENTS

 He's twelve weeks old, so I've set his birthday on September 13. Easy date for a Space: 1999 fan to remember.

This store has all sorts of birds, including big macaws and parrots. A Fischer's conure (a beautiful turquoise bird) seemed to be fascinated by me. I was trying to teach him not to bite. There was also an adorable canary, almost pale white with lemon yellow markings. We seemed to connect; he kept running to the bars to check me out. His other passion was shed feathers; every time I saw him, he picked one up and played with it. But $130! Goodness!

Labels: budgies

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 11:59:00 PM

(3) COMMENTS

 
On Monday evening at 11:30 p.m., I officially turned 68 years old. How the Dickens did that happen? In my head I'm still the six year old who fell in love with Lassie, the ten year old who learned to play the organ in the fifth grade classroom at Stadium School, the fifteen year old who adored Mr. Abosamra's English classes, the eighteen year old who missed almost the entire final quarter of twelfth grade due to surgery, the twenty-something who cried when the Paperback Books store in Providence closed...ten budgies, eight cars, two states, and James...so many years!

Monday we were off for a birthday dinner. Alas, we forgot Bay Breeze was closed on Mondays. We made a short stop at Ollie's Discount Store, then ate at Okinawa instead. Bulgogi beef, yum!

I spent the rest of my birthday replacing light bulbs on the bottom of the Christmas tree.

And when I did, that part of the bottom of the tree still didn't light up. I wanted to cry. Instead I just threw a spare string of lights at the bottom and replaced the lights in the middle of the tree where they had gone out last year. Those came back on.

I gave up and put the decorations and the tinsel the next day and it exhausted me fully. The best part of the night was listening to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir's annual Christmas concert. The guest was David Suchet, who told the story of Englishman Nicholas Winton and the Czech Kindertransport, so I spent time tinseling in tears.

By the way, I want you to see the smallest Christmas miracle. I bought this star at the Woolco at North DeKalb Mall, Market Square as it was then, and now demolished, in 1991 for our first Christmas tree together. Every year "Little Blaze" still lights...every year I know it might be the last, any day this year might be, too, but I always see her light anyway. Inspiration from a small Christmas star. She makes me cry.

I had a bunch of Hallmark coupons, so on Friday we went to Gretchen's at the Avenue at West Cobb. Unfortunately Mr. Lower GI decided to go spare at this point; James got a Battlestar Galactica ornament and I had to hotfoot it to Barnes & Noble to use the bathroom. The result was that I spent no coupons, but did buy four discount books, including two Christmas books.

It took us a long time to get over Snowy's death, then we had the whole summer with James falling or hurting himself in some way. In the last few months he's been asking me if we were going to get another bird. For a long time I couldn't think about it. Snowy's death itself had been so painful—I couldn't forget how his little body struggled as his legs stopped responding to his body, but he still attempted to crawl into a corner to die, and he didn't want me to hold him or comfort him in my hands—that I cried almost constantly about him at least once a week, most recently a week ago on his adoption day. James said I needed a bird; I was thinking more that he needed a bird; after all Snowy had been his working companion.

But this weekend he talked me into it. He'd found a bird store out in Norcross called Fancy Feathers.

But that's a story for another post. I did vacuum before we left. The last thing I wanted to do was frighten a baby bird with "the bizippy thing."

Sunday I got disgusted at my laziness and went downstairs to at least put up the airplane tree. It took me what seemed like forever because I dropped something like every fifth ornament. I broke the wing off one of the glass airplanes, and one ornament I dropped even knocked two more off the tree. I was fit to be tied by the time I was finished because I felt old and useless. There's nothing to decorating the airplane tree. You hang the ornaments, swag the garland, put on the star, and you're done. And it took so long. Sigh.

Labels: birthday, books, budgies, Christmas, Christmas decorations, food, illness, music, television

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 11:27:00 PM

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I can't even recall the last time we went to the Farmers' Market, but it was a cold day. Tucker had run out of his "magic dog cookies" ages ago, and since it would be cool this morning we decided to go, but be brisk about it since James' club meeting was also today. We decided to take Nature Boy with us, and he did certainly enjoy the entire trip, but supervising him is a full-time job for me. By the time we got there, there were no parking spaces on Powder Springs Road or around the square, so we just parked in back of Johnnie McCracken's Pub in the municipal lot (free on weekends) and walked.

Tucker is the Elephant's Child; he has "'satiable curiosity" enough for two dogs. He was very interested in the doors to an empty storefront that appears to be becoming another tiresome bar, so heaven only knows what has been going through them. Once we got to the square we cut across Glover Park, where entrants for a 5K were gathering. Friendly people! And then when we got to the market itself, O heaven! Other dogs! Labradoodles, mutts, a very elderly Golden retriever, a young Schnauzer, rescue greyhounds, and all sorts of canine acquaintances to touch noses and rear ends with in proper canine greeting fashion. Two little kids asked us about Tucker, we talked to the lady who runs Big Daddy dog biscuits (so we have "magic cookies" again), James bought some mint lime mixer, we have scones for desserts, and cucumbers and tomatoes for a salad for Easter dinner tomorrow (menu will be grilled shrimp in a scampi sauce). We sampled lemonade (too sweet) and the scones, but not much else because riding herd on Mr. Sociability kept me on my toes.

On the way back to the truck I ducked into the Local Exchange to buy two bags of Zesty Italian pretzels. Best pretzels ever.

On the way home, Tucker was allowed to do this, which made his day:


James dropped us off and went on to his IPMS meeting; I had better things to do, so of course I didn't do them. Last week I cancelled the disk portion of our Netflix subscription. We hadn't watched a disk since before his heart attack, and I decided I'd rather waste the monthly charge on Britbox, which we could get through the Roku stick I got free from Amazon Vine. At this moment, it was attached to the television in the spare room, so first I signed up with Britbox on the computer, then I signed on via the Roku. James set it up originally so I didn't really play with it much previously.

Then I brought it out to the living room. Trouble is, it works on an HDMI port, and all of ours are filled. But we don't use the small computer much anymore; we just use the disk drive on the small computer to view our Region 2 videos. So I unplugged that and if we want to watch British video we will just have to swap it out. Plugged in the Roku (to both the HDMI and the power source) and taped it to the top of the TV, since it has to be in line of sight of the remote to work properly (it's now sitting next to Judy Hopps), and then turned it on and made it go. For some strange reason, you can't get the A-Z listing of shows on the Roku app, just online, so I turned on Doctor Who ("Spearhead from Space"—Jon Pertwee, of course, and then the first episode of Keeping Up Appearances, which I don't ever recall seeing) and while I was watching I was online and putting shows on a watchlist. Nice selection: Cadfael, The Last Detective, all of Classic Who, Campion, A Touch of Frost, Waking the Dead, Absolutely Fabulous, Blackadder, As Time Goes By, Inspector Lynley, etc. Even some British cooking shows for James, and lots of documentaries, including the late 60s PBS staple, Civilisation with Kenneth Clarke. Have a big wishlist for more, though, especially old things, like Doctor in the House and All Creatures Great and Small. Would love to see some of the classic British cop shows: Z Cars, The Sweeney, Dixon of Dock Green...if they still exist, of course. And The Professionals! I heard so much about that show from Deb and Pat and the others in Boston in the 1980s.

I also finished A Year of Biblical Womanhood, which I enjoyed very much, and, although I hate to admit it, started doing a very late task: while I put up the spring decorations on the porch and in the foyer weeks ago, all the winter decorations are still up in the living and dining room. I just can't muster any enthusiasm for spring ever and this has been the worst yet. So not only don't I have Easter decorations up, I don't even have spring ones up. All the snowmen and silver trees and snow-marked items are gathered on the dining room table to be collected into the box, except for the winter park, which still must be packed away.

When James got home, we went to Longhorn for dinner (just basic entree and salads), our usual, the 6-ounce Renegade. I have to start telling them "medium" instead of "medium rare," as the Dallas Highway location barely shows the meat a picture of the fire. Next we went to Sprouts and picked up a couple of things, including beef and pork bits, onions, and grapes on sale. As James was finishing up the sale there, I ran next door with the coupon I'd gotten in e-mail and bought Tucker another bag of dog food, and got an even better coupon for next week: If I buy two bags of dog food and $2 worth of dog biscuits or a toy, I can get 33 percent off the deal! Of course I stopped to talk with the budgies; there was a cute one there who looked a lot like my sweet little Pigwidgeon. He was burbling quite contentedly near the glass wall of the enclosure.

Then we stopped at Barnes & Noble, but neither of us found anything we absolutely had to have. Our coupons don't expire until Mother's Day, so we've got time. By then we were both pretty tired, but neither of us wanted to go to the supermarket tomorrow, so we went across the street and got the usual: milk, a banana (only need one this week, thank God), a few other things, and two mini chocolate silk pies for tomorrow's dessert. And we are now set for desserts, since we have Lindt chocolate bunnies and Cadbury chocolate-filled eggs to go along with the scones. 😁

Stopped at Baskin-Robbins for tonight's dessert and then it was homeward to walk the dog and watch the Britcoms.

Labels: books, budgies, decorations, dogs, excursions, food, pets, shopping, television

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 11:58:00 PM

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Why can't I sleep deeply like this on workday nights? I slept deep and hard last night, and I believe the only reason I was awake at 8:12 was that I had it in the back of my mind that I still hadn't found the newest copy of "Breathe." (Yes, the irony is not lost on me that I am getting irritated over not finding a magazine devoted to relaxation and mindfulness.)

So I had breakfast and gave Tucker a good walk and then hopped in the car and headed for the Barnes & Noble in Buckhead. I plotted the trip on the GPS this time, since I had a short turnaround time, and it rattled me by taking me the back way (Plant Atkinson Road) which was the way it used to take me to the hospital.

So, finally, the "Breathe" and a "Time" special issue about the first World War, and, to my enormous surprise, two different issues of "Best of British," which I literally haven't seen for years. I had two coupons, and picked up the new paperback copy of The Librarians and the Lost Lamp and also a history of the post office.

The Buckhead B&N literally has more unique items than even the Akers Mill store (especially in the magazines), so I pushed my stay to the limit and then had to hurry home, stopping only briefly by Publix to grab some bread. I was trying not to eat meat today, so arrived home five minutes before noon and hastily put together a blackberry spread sandwich while pulling up the readings for the day off Laudiate. I did my readings, then put on the BBC Lent talks that I had recorded in the past six weeks. This year's theme was Destiny, and my two favorites were the rocket scientist and also the 80-year-old gentlemen talking about old age. I was thinking, though, that the talks weren't quite as inspiring as in previous years. Then I put on some quiet music and read A Year of Biblical Womanhood, which I'm really enjoying—so much that I kept reading long after three.

James suggested we try a new buffet tonight; it was the Fried Tomato Buffet, and the name gave me a bit of pause. And, yeah, a lot of the stuff is fried. However, they have baked chicken and some non-fried stuff, and a salad bar. I was still avoiding the meat, so I ended up eating fried, as that was the only way the shrimp was served. When we got done eating we went next door to Petland to see the puppies (these are the folks with the "designer dogs" that they charge you thousands for), which, despite their price, sure are cute. There was one little shih tzu type puppy who stared in astonishment as James came rolling up in the power chair. What a face!

Anyway, I heard little budgie voices and went up in an upper area where they had budgies, hamsters, rabbits and ferrets. The budgies were in two little glass open-topped enclosures—well, most of the budgies were in one enclosure, and one lone budgie was in the other, and he hated it. He was frantic, pattering back and forth in front of the glass where he could see and hear his flock, but couldn't get to them. Several times he tried to dig his way into the other enclosure. Poor thing! He reminded me of Snowy, with darker stripes on his head, and blue where Snowy is grey. I was trying to get him to come to me, but of course he was just a baby and not tame, and when one of the Petland people came by, I said "He's all alone," and the employee tried to catch him, but he fluttered away, and the guy said, "I'll move him later." But the poor little guy was still running back and forth in front of the glass, trying to get through, and the next time he got close to me and started digging to get to them, I grabbed him and transferred him into the other enclosure. He was so happy; he walked right next to the other birds and started contentedly preening himself. People think birds don't have feelings, but the little guy looked miserable.

Then we went on to Michaels. They were having a 40 percent off on everything regularly priced with a coupon. The last time they did that, I was able to stock up on stuff, but this was a really thin trip: I got a wooden medallion, a magnet for my car, and some small wood blocks for mini-shelves. The other two things I bought (a frame and a pencil sharpener) were on clearance and not covered by the coupon.

We came home through the battlefield park in a soft velvet twilight, the air suddenly beautifully cool as we cut through the trees. I always think it so funny when we come through here on nice nights—we either come home from Town Center through Kennesaw Avenue like tonight or through Church Street, and both these streets are lined by big old homes, some low southern-style homes and others Queen Anne or some permutation of Victorian era, and a lot of them have nice deep porches which the owners have decorated with porch furniture. Some of this is quite elaborate: white rattan chairs with cozy flowered cushions, tables, little table lamps with soft pastel shades, big porch swings with padded seats, potted plants, "fairy lights," etc. The lamps on some porches must be lit by timers because they sit casting soft lights...on empty porches. I understand not sitting outside in July and August when the night air is as hot and heavy as the day air was, but even on lovely cool nights like tonight we never see anyone out sitting on these lush, plush, beautiful porches! Strange.

Labels: books, budgies, crafts, dogs, food, Good Friday, Lent, magazines

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 10:26:00 PM

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