**I thought this was going to be a short story when I started—no such luck. Stop reading now if you’re not interested in a novel**
As most of you know I’m a proud pet parent. About six months ago LB2 gave me three canaries he had received as a tip-I know, right? Since he and SIL2 already have a menagerie of their own and birds are usually one of the few animals you can have in an apartment without having to pay any additional fees I was glad to take them off their hands. I have been convinced I’m an unfit parent since.
In November Moki had a monster stress molt, caught a chill, and died before I could take her to the vet. LB2 assured me she was very old (I am the third owner that we know of) so it was just her time. Yeah, I didn’t buy it. After a mini (ok huge meltdown) Mr. Wonderful bought her final resting place (a Tupperware container), and we laid her to rest in his parent’s back yard.
Two weeks later Red started making wheezy noises akin to a broken squeaker toy. Since I was convinced I was a horrible pet owner and still grieving the loss of Moki I rushed him and Gobo to the vet (avian respiratory issues are very communicable). Naturally the second I got in the exam room Gobo starts singing and showing off, and not to be out done Red jumps onto his perch and starts singing his little lungs out and showing off in a fine fashion too. The vet checked them out, said they were just fine, and sent us all on our merry way. I started to settle down, but I was still convinced that I would do something wrong and kill them both at any moment.
Red and Moki were parents to Gobo so my birds have always shared a cage. Most of the time they lived together peacefully--but they did have an occasional squabble. I also noticed the older Moki got the more the other two picked on him which I think is what caused him into the stress molt. Anyway, Sunday night Mr. Wonderful and I had just returned from the weekly parent dinner and were settling in to watch a movie when we heard a ruckus coming from my bedroom. Mr. Wonderful witnessed the tail end of the fight, but apparently Gobo was on top of Red and kicking the tar out of him. I didn’t think much of it; they pretty much forget why they were fighting once it’s over. Not this time. I had noticed Red was still on the floor of the cage and a sulky ball of fluff on Monday after I got home, but I decided to give it one more day. Last night when I got home and noticed he was still in this position, favoring his right leg, and didn’t seem to mind Gobo had pooped on him I started to really worry. I worried even more when I put my hand in the cage to check their food and didn’t get his usual freak-out (canaries are NOT social birds. They like to be seen and not handled) I knew something was wrong. I know he wasn’t eating while I was home, so I figured it was safe to assume he wasn’t eating when I wasn’t there either. I told Mr. Wonderful my fear and said I was going to take him to the vet today after I got home from work. Mr. Wonderful true to his wonderfulness said to make it for ASAP and he would take him before he had to be to work. (Is he a keeper or what?)
The diagnosis:
Gobo is a bully and Red is a pansy. Apparently Gobo inflicted a critical level of trauma on Red. They don’t know what’s wrong with his leg, but they think Gobo is to blame for that too. So now my little guy is being held over night and will receive oxygen and pain meds as needed, and lots and lots of TLC. Now I have to keep them in separate cages, and depending on the level of trauma Red has experienced it’s possible I will need to keep them separated AND out of each other’s sight. Oy. I’m a bad parent.
I’m going to prove my unfit-ness further by asking this question-the bill is already at $50 and will likely be double that tomorrow. When do you decide the pain, suffering, and cost outweigh the attempt to make them well again? I love my birds, and I will do what I can to make and keep them healthy and happy, but I’m also not willing to spend hundreds of dollars on an animal that is suffering.
Who would have thought birds who have peacefully co-existed all this time would suddenly start hating each other? Maybe Gobo is trying to assert her independence from dad? Whatever it is I'm at a complete loss.
Who would have thought birds who have peacefully co-existed all this time would suddenly start hating each other? Maybe Gobo is trying to assert her independence from dad? Whatever it is I'm at a complete loss.
**UPDATE** My quandary is moot; the vet just called to tell me Red succumbed to the shock and passed this morning. After the reaction I had with Moki I would have thought I would be more upset. I'm sad, but I was able to joke with Mr. Wonderful about how funny it must have looked to see the vet perform CPR. I'm not going to lie; I feel a little guilty about that.
Maybe part of me knew that when Mr. Wonderful took him yesterday he wouldn't be coming home. I also know aside from not taking him in sooner I did all I could this time around and if the vet couldn't save him it was meant to be and I'm glad he's no longer suffering.
It's sad, I'm sad, but it's ok, and who knows, maybe when I actually see him tonight when I pick him up the reality will set in and I will shed a tear or two.
I guess I will just have one bird who thinks an awful lot about herself and I don't have to worry about her bullying anyone anymore. I also am relieved I don't need to worry about the potential vet bills, buying one bigger cage, or spend anymore time thinking about where I'm going to put two cages-not only while I'm in the middle of moving, but also where I'll put them once I'm moved.
Does that make me a terrible person (and pet owner) for finding relief in that?
