The last pet I had before the birds was in high school. He was a 3ft long iguana named Ike (I was studying Eisenhower at the time). Much to my mother's horror, he roamed freely in my room. During the day he would sit on the windowsill, basking in the sunlight. When I would lay on the couch to read, he would watch me from his perch above me, and then suddenly jump on top of me. I would laugh and pet him, and then he would climb the handles on my dresser to the top of the bunk bed, and do it all over again. He had a funny little personality and I adored him. One day he caught cold, turned black, and nothing we did could save him. I cried for a week straight.
This is why I don't do pets. It's too bloody sad.
I had a little funeral for the bird while Andy kept the kids busy. I hid in a closet and got the tears out, and then tried to decide what to do. I couldn't leave Jessie alone, but I couldn't handle the thought of buying another bird and reliving the cycle over and over. Carrie called some good family friends from our old neighborhood who raise finches. They agreed to take her. I was sad to be a failure and give her away, but when I dropped her off, they showed me their bird set up and I knew she was in the best possible hands.
They had a webcam set up inside of a nest so that they could watch baby birds hatch without disturbing them or the mama. How awesome is that? As soon as Jessie heard the other birds, she went crazy with excitement. She's in a good place, even though I'm sure she'll miss her little buddy. Buzz and Jessie. They were perfect for each other.
Rest in peace, little friend. It's quiet around here. We miss you both already.
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