Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge. When an
animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to the
Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so
they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water, and sunshine.
Our friends are warm and comfortable.
All the animals who were
ill or old are restored to health and vigor. Those were hurt or maimed are made
whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of the days and
times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing;
they each miss someone very special to them who had to be left behind. They all
run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into
the distance. Her bright eyes are intent; her eager body begins to quiver.
Suddenly she begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, her legs
carrying her faster and faster.
You have been spotted,
and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous
reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face, your
hand again caresses the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting
eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.
Then you cross the Rainbow
Bridge together . . .
There are many wonderful times
and events in our home. There are also times of great loss. Our animals are
treated as family members, and very much loved. Each one is special in their own
particular way. Some of them who have passed on have touched us in a special way
that is important for us to share with others. As sad as it is to lose a family
member, we are blessed to have the time together we did.
Jade & Tiny Tim
Jade was sitting on a perch
in the main flight one day when her mate knocked her off (we witnessed the
event). She fell to the bottom and damaged some nerves. She had to be moved
to her own cage (the law of natural order within the flock - survival of the
fittest, meant she could not live in the main flight with others). We fixed
up a nice 'handi-capable' cage to make it easy for her to move around in her
condition. She had to be nebulized regularly due to breathing problems as a
result of the paralysis.
We tried to ease her loneliness by taking her out
as much as possible (she loved to sit with us on the deck in the sunshine,
under an umbrella, and be preened. She could not fly due to her paralysis,
so trips out in our arms were safe).
Enter into our lives a breach baby. Tiny Tim had to
be 'helped' out of his shell. He couldn't turn himself as we later learned -
he was born with only one hip joint. His parents rejected him so he was
hand-fed every hour or so around the clock. Everything happens for a reason,
and it seemed Tim's purpose was to be a companion to Jade. They moved in
together when the time was right, and became the best of friends.
One day, without any warning, Jade passed away. We
guess as a result of the breathing condition. Tiny Tim was obviously
heartbroken. He pined away alone for about a week before he passed, too. It
was a very sad time in our home, but we are sure these two friends are
together again, and happy.
Doc was our third cockatiel, and our first rescue
bird. He was found in a pet store with an open chest wound. He was taken to
the nearest vet before coming home and treated. Doc was a 'runt' in size,
but had a heart bigger than many people we've met. He was the most dedicated
father and husband, too.
Doc would help feed any baby tiel that cried out,
and fostered many when other parents had given up. He would tell you all
about everything that happened since the last time he saw you, from his
perch on your shoulder. Doc had the most brilliant outlook and disposition
of any bird we have ever met.
We heard a night-fright shortly after going to bed
one evening. Tammy went down to make sure everyone was okay, and came back
with Doc in her hands. He had fallen off his perch, most likely a result of
sudden stroke. We held him and talked to him for that short time we had left
with him. We see a little bit of Doc in all his children, and
grand-children. Rest gently, sweet Doc.
Kookie was a rare yellow-cheek
cockatiel mutation we added from another aviary into our flock. He developed
a respiratory ailment that required medical treatments many times a day. He
had a tremendous will to live, and we tried our hardest to help him.
Leo, an Australian King Parrot, came to us from a
friend's aviary when he was diagnosed with aspergillosis, a fungal ailment.
He needed nebulizing 3 times a day, jugular injections at our vet's office
twice per day, oral medications once a day, and tube feeding every couple
hours (to help him keep his strength. Unfortunately, Leo was diagnosed too
late, and the infection was too well rooted when treatments began.
Although not our bird, we brought Leo in and tried
to the end to help him survive. He was a great patient who never argued
about the treatments (as awful as they were... It was so much like receiving
chemotherapy). He never cared for the touch of a human - until near the end,
when he would come to us for comfort. He would fall asleep in our arms while
the medicine tried to do battle. This was the last picture we took of Leo as
he slept on our kitchen counter on a towel after one of his treatments.
Leo died in our arms, fighting for his life to the
end. There will always be a special place in our hearts for this very
special fellow. He may not have been with us long, but he made a very
lasting impression in our hearts.
Gump was a Society Finch we found after his (or her)
mom slept a little too hard on him. Gump had double club feet, a mal-formed
tongue, and the idea he was a person, not a finch. Because of his tongue
problem, he couldn't feed himself and required hand feeding every two hours
during the day, and at least once during the middle of the night.
DJ adopted Gump and the two could be found watching
cartoons together before school in the mornings. Gump is seen here with his
other pal, Bubba, a stuffed birdie. Gump would sit on Bubba to gain height
so he could see outside his travel cage he called home, and yell our if he
saw one of us walk by. He also liked to sit on a shoulder (biting fabric or
skin to hold on) and ride around the house.
Gump was born with little chance for life. With the
help of our vet, he managed to spend several weeks with us (and we hope
happy to the end). Gump may have been the tiniest bird in our home,
but he had one of the biggest hearts (and cries), and managed to touch all
Rita (left, pictured with her mate, Flip) was the oldest cockatiel in our
flock. She was one of the sweetest birds we had. She was a great mom and
always loved to be put up for breeding, pitched in to foster babies, and was
just a pleasure and comfort to us all. Her full name was Margarita and her
mate is Flip-Flop (from the Jimmy Buffett song, Margaritaville).
We noticed she wasn't acting just right a couple days after being put up
for her last breeding. She was really put up in case other, newer pairs
decided they wouldn't tend to their offspring (and Rita would be ready to
step in). We took her to the vet to see if there was anything wrong and
found that she had a misshaped egg in her uterus that could not be removed
Rita never made it out of the anesthesia. We will miss Rita, but
certainly not as much as Flip.
This picture defines Kally - ever ready to fetch a tennis
ball no matter how far it is thrown. She wore out many an arm in a full
afternoon. Unfortunately, a crippling form of arthritis caused her to
rapidly lose use of her hind legs and rob her of that joy. She helped make
some of the roughest times passable and was there when needed the most. At
over 16 years and not a touch of grey, Kally was quite a young lady.