This will be a tribute to my beloved Quincy, and I honestly can't do this anymore. I can't say goodbye to my pets anymore. It is getting harder each and every time, and with Quincy it came just much too unexpected, and definitely much too quickly.
Quincy was only 6 years old. A baby in the Amazon parrot world, as they are known to live over 70 years. He was a gift from my best friend, who was going through a very difficult time in her life 6 years ago. Quincy was just 12 weeks when I brought him home, and it was love at first sight.
I did have another Amazon at the time, Hunter, now a 10 year old GORGEOUS yellow-nape female. Quincy must have fallen in love with her immediately because when he became flighted, his first stop was on top of Hunter's cage. There he sat, looked down on her and said (in human language): "Hi, wanna come out?"
Well, it took Hunter 3 years to fall in love with him, but once she did, they became inseparable. They shared one cage, an enormous thing of a cage, I should add. They preened each other, played together, fed each other, but never lost their bond with me. Yes, Quincy could be quite ornery at times, but he was never vicious.
1 week ago I noticed something wasn't quite right with him, so I scheduled an appointment the very same day. To make a very long story a bit shorter, the vet "suspected" it was his liver. Blood was drawn, and 60ml (!!!) of fluid was taken from his lower abdomen. I was sent home with 2 different medicines, and was promised to get the blood results the next morning.
Quincy died in my arms on September 24th at 2:20AM. I was woken up that night due to a thunderstorm and heavy rains, and asked Alex to help me shut the windows really quick. When I went downstairs I saw Quincy was on the bottom of the cage. I thought he was gone already and let out a scream. When I opened the cage and tried to pick him up, he felt coldish. Then his head turned and he gave me a nasty bite on my thumb. I then gently put him on a towel, turned on more lights, lifted him up, and sat on the couch with him. He slowly began to relax. I was petting him, scratching his neck and head, and he ever so softly started talking to me. He looked right up at me, his eyes open wide. Then he began to grind his beak, slowly closing his eyes a little. (For anyone unfamiliar with bird behavior, birds only grind their beak when they are really content.) And then he rested his head in my hand, the grinding stopped, and Quincy was gone.
It all happened much too fast. I still seem to be unable to get a grip over this. Oh yes, I finally got the blood result days later. It was his liver. And it is suspected to have been hereditary. It was not diet related, it was not any sort of poison, or environmental. But I refuse to dig him up and have a necropsy done.
So now I have Hunter. Sure, she is lonely - more so without him than I. But I miss him. I miss him each and every day. The house is just not the same without him. And I am grieving - again.
And I remember this: "It is better to have lost and loved than to have never loved at all."
Perhaps in time I will find comfort in that old saying. For the time being my heart is broken.
I miss you Quincy. And I love you! This is for you, my buddy.
For all of you who read through all of this - THANK YOU.
Quincy was only 6 years old. A baby in the Amazon parrot world, as they are known to live over 70 years. He was a gift from my best friend, who was going through a very difficult time in her life 6 years ago. Quincy was just 12 weeks when I brought him home, and it was love at first sight.
I did have another Amazon at the time, Hunter, now a 10 year old GORGEOUS yellow-nape female. Quincy must have fallen in love with her immediately because when he became flighted, his first stop was on top of Hunter's cage. There he sat, looked down on her and said (in human language): "Hi, wanna come out?"
Well, it took Hunter 3 years to fall in love with him, but once she did, they became inseparable. They shared one cage, an enormous thing of a cage, I should add. They preened each other, played together, fed each other, but never lost their bond with me. Yes, Quincy could be quite ornery at times, but he was never vicious.
1 week ago I noticed something wasn't quite right with him, so I scheduled an appointment the very same day. To make a very long story a bit shorter, the vet "suspected" it was his liver. Blood was drawn, and 60ml (!!!) of fluid was taken from his lower abdomen. I was sent home with 2 different medicines, and was promised to get the blood results the next morning.
Quincy died in my arms on September 24th at 2:20AM. I was woken up that night due to a thunderstorm and heavy rains, and asked Alex to help me shut the windows really quick. When I went downstairs I saw Quincy was on the bottom of the cage. I thought he was gone already and let out a scream. When I opened the cage and tried to pick him up, he felt coldish. Then his head turned and he gave me a nasty bite on my thumb. I then gently put him on a towel, turned on more lights, lifted him up, and sat on the couch with him. He slowly began to relax. I was petting him, scratching his neck and head, and he ever so softly started talking to me. He looked right up at me, his eyes open wide. Then he began to grind his beak, slowly closing his eyes a little. (For anyone unfamiliar with bird behavior, birds only grind their beak when they are really content.) And then he rested his head in my hand, the grinding stopped, and Quincy was gone.
It all happened much too fast. I still seem to be unable to get a grip over this. Oh yes, I finally got the blood result days later. It was his liver. And it is suspected to have been hereditary. It was not diet related, it was not any sort of poison, or environmental. But I refuse to dig him up and have a necropsy done.
So now I have Hunter. Sure, she is lonely - more so without him than I. But I miss him. I miss him each and every day. The house is just not the same without him. And I am grieving - again.
And I remember this: "It is better to have lost and loved than to have never loved at all."
Perhaps in time I will find comfort in that old saying. For the time being my heart is broken.
I miss you Quincy. And I love you! This is for you, my buddy.
For all of you who read through all of this - THANK YOU.