Dear moon_beam,

Thanks again for your reply. I'm so sorry to hear about the loss of your fur babies. I hope Noah is with you for many more years to come.


As I begin to recover from my recent illness, the sadness is now returning. I'm sitting here on my couch in complete sorrow as I remember the distinct feeling of Boogie perched on my shoulder (always my left shoulder) with his warm feathered chest against my cheek so I could hear his little heart beating. That's something I will miss every day of my life. Neil has described the loss of Boogie for me is the same as losing a limb...only worse.

I had to work in my office today, but I covered his cage with a white sheet so that it sort of blends into the wall...of course, I know it's still there. Neil and I sometimes hear phantom Boogie squawks, but today I could have sworn I heard a sound coming from the cage, like there was something moving inside. I also keep finding random Boogie feathers in places where there was nothing before. So strange.

Dear JuliaSC,

I'm so sorry to hear about your precious kitty. I wish I had some magic words to give you comfort. I agree with others here who have recommended that you ignore what the so-called "pet communicators" told you. They are greedy scam artists who prey on the emotions of those who are desperate to find their missing companions. The only person who truly knew your cat is you, so listen to your heart. Keep leaving food on your porch along with items of your clothing or a pair of your shoes, and call for your baby every day. I sincerely hope he returns to you very soon.

Hi, Pamela, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. Indeed, this grief adjustment journey is a "process" that can only be traveled one day at a time, sometimes one moment at a time, in your own way and in your own time. I am so smiling at how your beloved Boogie is letting you know his sweet Living Spirit continues to be with you, even though you cannot see, hear, touch, smell him. This grief adjustment journey is both physical and emotional - - and it is indeed a very painful adjustment.

The trauma and recovery of your surgery - - no matter how "minor" the medical professionals may label it to be - - is another MAJOR "first without" in your adjustment journey without your beloved Boogie's sweet physical presence with you. But I promise you, Pamela, the deep sorrow will eventually ease and you will be able to once again smile when you remember your beloved Boogie's earthly journey with you.

I hope today is treating you kindly, Pamela, and that you will have a very peaceful evening blessed with your beloved Boogie's sweet Living Spirit to comfort you. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, Pamela, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

It's now been 6 weeks since Boogie passed, and I understand the pain and grief I'm feeling, but I'm a bit bewildered by the disbelief and shock that I'm still experiencing. I know Boogie is gone, yet every day I find myself saying "I can't believe it..."

When Boogie became ill, I tried to brace myself for the worst. The first thing I did each morning was to check on him, just to be sure he was okay. I would call to him quietly and then feel completely overcome with relief when he responded to me. In the back of my mind however I was attempting to prepare myself in case he didn't respond. I suppose there really was no way I could truly prepare for his sudden passing. I feel as though I'm still in shock, which is making it very difficult for me to accept that Boogie is really gone.

I seem to only function in 2 modes these days. I don't think about my bird and go about my daily routines, but with the terrible feeling of a hole in my life. Then there are days when all I do is think about Boogie and cry my eyes out.

Not really sure how to deal with the holidays. I used to really enjoy this time of year, but now I find it completely depressing. I guess all of us here on this message board have similar feelings.

Hi, Pamela, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. Please permit me to try to offer you some words of encouragement and comfort that what you are feeling is very normal deep grief when you share with us: "I used to really enjoy this time of year, but now I find it completely depressing." What is supposed to be the "most wonderful time of the year" can in reality be the "most horrible time of the year" when our hearts are filled with sorrow in addition to them being among the "first withouts" we experience when our beloved companion is no longer physically with us.

I know all too well from first hand experience how difficult it is to put on the "public face" of merriment for those who are around us when all we want to do is fnd a dark corner to stay until the holidays and all the accompanying social gatherings are over with. It is important that you find time amid all the "holiday cheer" to allow yourself the opportunity to openly grieve for your beloved Boogie - - even if you must find a quiet place of solitude to do so. And please know we are here for you, Pamela, whenever you need us.

I hope today is treating you kindly, Pamela, and that you will have a very peaceful evening blessed with your beloved Boogie's sweet Living Spirit to comfort you. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, Pamela, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

It's hard to believe, but it's been 3 months and 1 week since Boogie passed. It feels as though it's been longer than that, but I guess grief can make it seem as if time has slowed down. I've still just been doing my best to keep it out of my thoughts, but for some reason I've been missing him quite a bit more than usual lately. I can think about him very briefly, just for a moment, but then I have to distract myself or I'll become really depressed. I suppose it's going to be this way for quite a long time. I went to my local pet supply store the other day to buy some cat food and it's still strange not going into the bird sections to look for toys and special treats. Cooking is weird too. I really have to pause when I'm cutting up vegetables or fruit since I used save special bits and scraps for Boogie. The best word I can think of to describe how it feels is confusion.

Hi, Pamela, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing, and your and your beloved Boogie's 3 month angel-versary. During the deep grief things still get done, bills get paid, jobs get done, meals prepared, etc., but they are accomplished in a state of what I call "automatic pilot." For quite awhile we "exist" without feeling an integral part of what is happening, what we are doing, - - like being outside a store looking in the window at the displays and people shopping. Please let me try to reassure you that what you are feeling is a very normal part of the grief adjustment journey, although it is still a very painful part both emotionally and physically.

In time, though, I assure you that the deep sorrow and grief will ease, and one day you will notice that the ache in your heart is not quite so painful. Some people fear that this means they are forgetting their beloved companion, but I assure you, Pamela, this will not happen - - for your beloved Boogie is always and forever a part of your heart and memories - - he is always and forever a heartbeat close to you. His greatest pleasure during his earthly journey was making you happy, and this remains his greatest pleasure through eternity. So, when you find yourself smiling, or laughing, your beloved Boogie is smiling, and laughing, too - - in seeing you happy.

I hope today is treating you kindly, Pamela, and that you will have a very peaceful evening blessed with your beloved Boogie's sweet Living Spirit to comfort you. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, Pamela, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

I very much appreciate your kind words, moon_beam. You are exactly correct. There is a fear that I might forget the feelings I have for Boogie, but as of right now, it has been 4 months since he passed and I miss my bird more than ever. I am surrounded by constant reminders of Boogie every day, but his physical presence is gone and three simple words continually bring me to tears: I miss him.
I understand the way the universe works. All living things die. Even stars eventually burn out. Unfortunately, we humans cling to our need for permanence in an impermanent world, which causes us great misery. Sadly, this knowledge does little to lessen my sorrow when it comes to my Boogie. This is without question the most difficult loss I've ever experienced.

I forgot to mention that I had a very strange dream the other night. I was sitting by myself in an odd diner and speaking to random friendly people at other tables when suddenly my Boogie appeared, perched on my hand. He kept changing color (from bright orange to his usual bright green), but it was definitely my bird. I began stroking his feathers, but it wasn't exactly a happy scenario since I knew in my dream he was gone, so I told the diner patrons that he had actually passed away and that he wasn't really there. It was weird and sad.

It's been 6 months since Boogie passed and it still feels like it happened only yesterday. Just having a really difficult time accepting that he's gone. I get by day-to-day, but I cry every night when I think about the 27 years Boogie was in my life and how special he was. Not sure why, but the sadness seems to be overtaking me again and I miss him more than ever now. I'm so heartbroken without my sweet bird.

I've also recently realized that I can't stand living in the house where he died and I really want to move. I don't know if that would help diminish my sorrow, but as of now every corner of this place is a constant reminder that Boogie is gone forever. I'm haunted by his absence.

I had left Boogie's perch in the kitchen after he passed since I couldn't bear the thought of moving it or hiding it away, but over the past 6 months of non-use it became covered with a layer of dust, which is an even sadder thing to see. I finally decided it was time to cover it and place it in another room. His cage remains where it always has been though. Moving it would require quite a lot of furniture shifting...plus I just can't do it. If I even look at his cage for more than a moment, I completely lose it. Been doing that quite a bit lately.

My husband was kind of a jerk recently. He was running an errand the other day and decided to take a break at our local park (the scenery is really beautiful there). Some guy in the next car had a parrot with him that was similar to our Boogie (basically the same breed, but different coloring...ours was a Blue-Front, his a Double Yellow-Nape). Turns out the guy was some sort of bird trainer who had worked for Annheiser-Busch. Not at a theme park though. I guess at one time they had different sorts of attractions for the general public at some of their plants that included animal acts. Anyway, my husband apparently told the guy all about our bird and had a long discussion with him about parrot behavior. When my husband came home, he told me about the guy and how much better he felt after talking to him. He tried to show me photos of the parrot at the park, but I told him I wasn't ready for that and I didn't want to hear anymore about how great it was that he met some stranger who had a parrot. It really irritated me that he thought it was appropriate to talk about me and my feelings about Boogie to the guy. If my husband wanted to talk about himself, that's his business, but he should have kept his mouth shut about me. He then said I should "get over it" since HE was now less sad about Boogie. Not only am I still devastated over the loss of my bird, but I'm also furious that my husband acted like such an idiot.

Pamela,

Omg. I can understand your upset. But first, I want to say how very, very sorry I am to read about your losing Boogie. I read your story several days ago, or so, and intended to write a note, but didn't. When I saw this post, it reminded me, I remembered your story, and how heartbreaking it is. I can't imagine having a fur/feather friend in my life that long and losing him. omg, the grief! It must have felt like losing an arm. I am so, so sorry. I thought of Molly, reading your story....I didn't realize how much a part of my life she was, but I think her world revolved around us as well, so yes, when they're gone they take a huge, huge part of your heart with them.

But with your husband and his comments. I could understand how you're feeling. My husband can tend to be a bit like that....well, I tend to be a very private person, but my husband is a little more "open" with things...but were I in your shoes, I'd likely feel the same way, that I wouldn't necessarily want him telling just anyone how I was feeling about things. I guess that's one of the pitfalls of marriage??

About the perch....I was kind of the opposite. There are things of Molly's that I will likely never, ever part with...her catnip mice, her comb, and her blankets. But after we lost her, I had to move certain things out of my sight---her little blanket bed on our bed, it would have absolutely killed me to look at it, empty, every night--it had to be moved. Her stand by the window had to be moved. Too many reminders of her would have just done me in. Losing her has been torture for me, and the less I had to look at first, that reminded me of her, the better.

But I think Molly was to me, a kind of support the way Boogie was to you. We moved about seven years ago, out of state, and it turned into an awfully hard move for me. Especially that first year, I felt so alone, no friends nearby, it ended up being a really rough year for me. But I had Molly. Without fully being aware of it, Molly was my support, my constant, my best-friend and saved me through that first year here. We'd had her for 16 years, though a lot times, and she was kind of an anchor for me. No matter what, my Molly was always there for me at the end of the day. She was my baby. The grief is so intense. It's a hole that, I fear, will never be filled.

Snapdragon,

Thanks so much for your reply and kind words. Please accept my deepest sympathies for your Molly. I wish I had some magic words to lessen your sadness, but if it helps you to know, everyone here shares the pain you are feeling. Every post I read in this forum brings me to tears.

This has definitely been the worst loss I have ever experienced. Since Boogie was such a huge part of my life, and really my whole world for the past 2 and a half decades, I can't stop thinking about him...but when I do think about him I just fall to pieces, so I have to struggle every waking moment to keep the ball of grief in the middle of my chest from rising to the surface. I miss him so much that it's a nightmare trying not to think about Boogie when literally everything reminds me of him. Boogie had such a big personality and he was truly aware of everything around him. He would even laugh along with my husband and I when we watched something amusing on TV. I know he only did it because we were laughing, but it was a unique chuckle that he developed all on his own. He would sing along with any music heard in his own special language, yet when he wanted more attention he knew exactly what to say to make us understand what he needed.

Fortunately, my husband hasn't mentioned that guy from the park again, so I can be thankful for that anyway. I'm sure he meant well, but his judgement was a bit off that day. He actually misses Boogie a great deal too, but he even admits that it's far worse for me. He said the exact same thing as you, by the way. He also thought it must feel like I've lost a limb. I once described it as having a Boogie-shaped hole in my heart, and just like you, there's nothing in this world that can ever fill it and knowing that makes the grief never ending.

I do hope as time passes the sadness in your heart is replaced by happy memories of your dear Molly.

Thank you for your kindness and sympathies! And yes, the experience, for those of us who SO loved and adored our fur-friends/kids, is the same, isn't it, just a lot of very intense pain and emptiness.

My husband has had parrots before and has told me how very, very smart and OH-SO attached they become to their people, so I feel like I have a pretty good picture of how Boogie was such an integral part of your life. And now that I look back on it, I can see that Molly was such a part of me, like the air I breath, that losing her leaves me feeling battered, bruised and feeling like a zombie just going through the motions of living--so I can feel even how much more you must be feeling that, having had Boogie with you for two+ decades...I mean, when a loving friend has been with you that long, such a close, close part of your life, how do you go on when that part of you is no longer there? I hear that when you say "...I have to struggle every waking moment to keep the ball of grief in the middle of my chest from rising to the surface."

Well, I guess we just have to put one foot in front of another. What else is there to do? I am doing some reading on grief--and I'm now reading about grief in general, as well. For me, this is the first loss in my life where I've grieved this deeply--really, nothing comes close. Even when I lost my mom, whom I loved very much, she was a very good mom, and I did grieve when she passed, I knew there's never be anyone in this world again who would love me as much as she did, but even then, I didn't have this "I-want-to-die" kind of pain. I don't understand it. Seriously, how can I be grieving more deeply over my cat of 16 yrs? It doesn't make sense to me, but that's what it is. My mom passed 20+ yrs ago...I've wondered if I just don't remember... But I think, the pain I've had losing Molly, I can't imagine EVER forgetting how bad it is, even 20+ yrs ahead in time, I just can't imagine ever forgetting going through this, it's just hell. So, back to this....just putting one foot in front of the other. And holding onto hope that one day it will "be better."

I hope this year, the second of Boogie's passing, may perhaps, in some small way, by way of miracle, bring you just a little more peace. Thank you again for your heartfelt condolences on my losing Molly, I know you understand....and that helps, your words help. Thank you.

Snapdragon,

Thanks for your reply. I really appreciate it. I wanted to get my thoughts in order before responding.



As of April 18th it's been 7 months since Boogie passed and I still cry 2-3 times a day whenever I think of him.



There was something I didn't realize until just a few days ago. In addition to the physical separation from our departed fur/feather babies, we have lost our special language that we shared with them. We can no longer speak to them or use those special names we had for them, so we have to adjust our thinking patterns on a daily basis. I really miss that interaction with my Boogie, especially since he was such a talker.



I completely understand what you are experiencing. Even as recently as last week, I found myself wondering aloud "How can I go on without Boogie?" I suppose it's the pain of knowing that my life will never be the same.


I hope the same for you. I, and many others on this message board, know how much your Molly meant to you.

Thanks, PamelaS. I appreciate your response and thoughts. Yes, I understand what you're saying about that 'special language.' Molly and I seemed to actually carry on something of a conversation most days. I always knew for certain that she was saying something specific to me, though I didn't understand her 'words.' But, it was a conversation nonetheless. We realize, after they're gone, what an intimate part of our lives they are. I watched "Call the Midwife" last night and it was said, someone died, there were good-byes that were never said, and I burst out crying.

And yes, you're right...it's the pain of knowing that your life will never be the same without them. I find myself feeling/thinking "...what does anything matter without Molly." It really gives me pause, and makes me realize how unimportant so much else is in comparison to having had Molly in my life.

I have a pullover sweater I was knitting; it had been on the floor, next to where I had been working on it at night, though I hadn't touched it in many weeks. Molly had taken to lying on it, right next to the wall. It's probably the only thing like that, something Molly had been laying on, that I have left around the house. I will need to pick it up one day and resume working on it, but I realize that I don't want to move it. I still see Molly lying on it and somehow I don't want to give that up. So who knows when I'll be able to move it. Those little things can be SO hard, so very hard. It's hard enough losing them, but then you have to go on living in a house in which you constantly see their absence everywhere you turn.

Well, thank you again for you your thoughtfulness. I appreciate it. And, as you say, we also know and understand the feeling of deep, deep loss and pain you continue to suffer from Boogie's absence...a wound no balm seems to help.

The simplest things bring me to tears on a daily since literally everything reminds me of Boogie. I see a tiny insect crawling up the wall and all I can think of is the way Boogie would tilt his head to one side and stare at little bugs. It's difficult for me to listen to any kind of music since Boogie would begin singing the instant he heard even the faintest tune playing in the house. Preparing meals is heartbreaking since Boogie was always in the kitchen with me. There are now small flocks of migrating wild parrots flying around outside and squawking loudly in the trees, which I used to really enjoy, but now I find quite sad. The worst everyday activity for me, however, is taking a shower. 99% of the time, Boogie would sit up on the edge of the shower door or perch on the shower curtain rod and we would sing together or just make silly noises while I showered. I would also pop him under the running water for a quick birdbath. The simple act of showering is now the saddest and loneliest time for me.



I envisioned a much different life down the road, one that included my bird, but any thoughts I have about the future now all end with "Boogie won't be there." Of course I realize he would pass away at some point, but I never thought it would happen so quickly. 27 years may sound like a very long time, but for me, Boogie left way too soon.



I know what you mean. Even though we know they are gone, by changing anything that was part of our furbabies lives means we have to finally accept that they are gone, which is an extremely difficult thing to do.



Everyone who is suffering the pain of pet loss understands how we feel, and I think about that every day. It has now been a little over 7 months since Boogie's passing, and while "life does go on," there are times when it seems as if it only just happened. I'm still not used to the missing daily routine with my bird. I don't know how to describe it really...there will always be a big hole in my life from now on and I know there is nothing I can do about it. I have nowhere to focus that special love I had for Boogie and I feel lost.

Today was especially hard due to the thoughtless actions of my husband and also an incident that happened a few days after Boogie passed. I was in the backyard and I noticed a tiny bird hopping on the ground near the fence. I was watering the lawn and it didn't fly away like any normal bird would have, so I knew there was a problem. On closer inspection, it turned out to be a baby bird that had apparently fallen out of its nest. It did not appear to be injured since it was hopping through the grass, but it couldn't fly. This occurred back in October, so it was still quite chilly outside. If the bird had fallen out of the nest the day before, it would have been exposed to the cold all night, which would have definitely caused a problem for the little guy. I brought him into the house, placed him a makeshift nest and kept him as warm as possible...but he didn't make it. When I first found the bird, it lifted my spirits a bit thinking that I could possibly help the poor thing. Silly as it is, I almost had the feeling that maybe Boogie had somehow directed the baby bird into my backyard so I could find it. Needless to say, I was crushed by another bird death. Fast forward to last month when a sparrow couple decided that the overhang outside our front door would be the perfect place to build a nest. We've been watching the nest-building progress for weeks, and the sudden appearance of chirping babies was quite heartwarming. There was one thing I kept saying to my husband over and over, "Just leave them alone!" A few days ago, he used a step stool to snap a photo of the babies, no harm done, but I reminded him to stay away from the nest. Of course, "he knows what's best" so today (behind my back) he got up on the step stool again, but this time the babies (a little older now) freaked out and they all flopped to the ground and started half-hopping, half-flying around our driveway! He can't handle animal emergencies at all, so I had to run out there and try to gather up the babies. It was hard to tell how many had fallen out, and we weren't sure how many were in the nest in the first place. I found 2 right away and immediately put them back up, but it appeared another might have flown away with the mother bird and it looked like one more fell out at some point, but I didn't see it when I found the first two babies. Over the next hour I kept watching for falling babies, and that's when I saw the other one under my car. I picked it up, but it was in bad shape. It was coughing up blood and it had some bruise marks on its chest, so I assume the fall onto the driveway caused some internal injuries. I held it my hands and tried to keep it it as warm and comfortable as possible, but it was obvious the poor tiny thing wasn't going to make it. I buried it in the front yard. I've been crying all day over that baby bird, and I'm really angry at my husband who just refused listen. He does feel terrible about the bird, but if he had just left them alone in the first place all the babies would have been safe in their nest, I wouldn't have had to deal with the stress of chasing them around the yard, and I wouldn't be in tears over another dead bird. Not having a good day.

I've been particularly sad the past few days. Perhaps it was the incident with the baby bird that started me thinking so much about Boogie, but it's also my birthday this weekend and that has me really depressed. Last year I turned 50, and I thought it was going to be a really amazing year. I had planned on celebrating my 50th during the rest of 2013 and maybe even beyond, but nothing seemed to go right...and of course the worst part of all was Boogie dying just 4 months later. Now my birthday is just a reminder of the worst year of my life. My husband was planning some sort of fun even for me, like going to a baseball game, but I had to tell him I'm not in any mood to celebrate. Not only that, I just found out he was going to get me an adult conure as a surprise! I've told him so many times since Boogie died that I do NOT want another bird! That is literally the last thing I need. It took years and years for Boogie and me to bond. There's no guarantee that any other bird would even like me at all. I think he really wants a new bird, but of course I would end up taking care of it. I just don't understand what's going on in his brain.

I really can't believe it's been 10 months. I wish I could say it's easier to accept that Boogie is gone now, but I still feel like I'm in limbo. I miss him terribly and the only way I can get through the day without falling to pieces is to simply not think about him. It's truly awful, but the moment anything about Boogie begins to seep into my thoughts, I immediately become a sobbing wreck. I hate that I have to keep turning off my memories of him, but it's the only way I can function. I shared 27 years with that sweet bird, and now it seems as if it will take another 27 years to get over his death.