The Night My Beloved Boogie Died... Options

[Pamela S.]

Our cherished Amazon of 25 years, Boogie, passed away on 10/17/13 and I can't stop crying. My husband and I are completely devastated. Even though Boogie was not feeling well recently (the vet diagnosed it as an unspecified liver problem), he continued to behave normally, so his passing was quite unexpected. Whenever he did display any rare signs of illness, he always recovered so quickly that we just thought he would bounce back again as usual. I can count on one hand the times Boogie actually became ill over the past 25 years, but one day this past September he became alarmingly droopy, weak and off-balance, and it took hours for him to return to normal. That's when I took him to the vet and found out there was a problem with his liver. The vet couldn't be sure what the exact problem might have been without further, more stressful tests, which he recommended against, so he simply prescribed some meds for Boogie in hopes that it would clear up whatever was bothering him. There was never a thought that his illness might be life-threatening. In the meantime, it also never occurred to us that our bird was getting older. We just assumed he would be with us for a very long time to come. We've shared our home with many different animals over the years (we just lost a special-needs bunny of 8 years a few weeks ago), but we always assumed Boogie would be the one to outlive them all. I don't even know if I noticed he was slowing down a little bit and sleeping more than he used to. Maybe I just didn't want to notice it. He seemed so happy and normal, and giving Boogie the meds (3 different liquids twice a day) was torturous to both him and me. It was extremely traumatic and he hated it. He would gag and sneeze when I managed to get any down his throat, but most of the pink sticky mess would end up on my clothes, his feathers and the walls, so I decided to focus on his diet and lay off the meds for awhile. I checked online and his symptoms seemed to indicate that he might be suffering with fatty liver disease, so I purchased specially formulated parrot food for him and made sure he had only low protein, low fat, low starch and low sugar fruits and veggies. He had only 2 very minor relapses over the past few weeks, but bounced back almost immediately. Everything seemed to be going well, until he had a more serious relapse that took him over an hour to recover from, but still he returned to normal and we just chalked it up to his liver ailment. I tried one more time to give him some meds, but that was as disastrous as before. On his last day, October 17th, Boogie was up to usual antics, but as late afternoon approached, he seemed to be getting tired and off-balance. By that evening, he was in a full relapse, so I held him in my lap as I had always done in the past until he recovered. As the hours passed, he rallied a few times, and I was definitely worried, but I thought all would be well. I'll never know if it was due to his age or his liver, but my poor little bird just couldn't bounce back this time. He died in my arms late that night.

It was my husband who decades ago wanted a parrot, but for whatever reason, Boogie had bonded with me, so I'm having a particularly difficult time dealing with his death. The bird and I built a very special relationship over the next 25 years that I cannot fully describe in words. He was a part of me. He was my constant companion around the house, and now I just feel an enormous hole in my life. No matter what I did on a daily basis (cleaning, cooking, relaxing...absolutely everything), he was there on my shoulder. When my husband and I argued, my little Boogie was there to soothe my nerves. When we planned an evening out, we had to be home as soon as possible to make sure Boogie didn't have to spend an extra moment in his cage. Our lives literally revolved around our bird, but we loved him so much it was a joy, not a hardship. Boogie had a love/hate relationship with my husband since he was considered an "intruder" by our parrot, but they shared many special moments together as well.

I am overwhelmed by despair at the unfairness of my bird being taken from me, and guilt that I should have or could have done more for him. He was my life and I don't know how to go on without my Boogie.

[Pamela S.]

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.

[Snapdragon]

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 decid 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.

[Pamela S.]

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.

[Snapdragon]

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.

[Pamela S.]

Snapdragon,

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

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.

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.

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."

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.

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 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 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.

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