My Parrot Stanley Sue Is Gone Options

[Bob]

My wonderful friend Stanley Sue, an African grey Timneh parrot, died at the vet's last Friday in the process of getting an x-ray. The vet did the best that he could, but the procedure was just too stressful for a bird that had been so ill for so many weeks. (We had to tube feed her twice a day so that she could get enough nutrients to fight her illness.) Our vet told me that her spleen and liver were enlarged, and he thought that she probably had cancer. I did not want an autopsy. I brought Stanley Sue home and buried her in the backyard.

Despite Stanley Sue's illness, which first manifested as pneumonia in early December, I don't believe she suffered much. In fact, I spent a couple of really nice afternoons with her last week. I would sit and read a book in the heated room that we kept her in, and she would crawl down the outside of her cage and 'steal' a grape or nut that I had placed on a tea cart next to her cage. She had an endearing mischievous attitude all along and was never anything but the essence of gentleness with my wife and me, even when we subjected her to something unpleasant like tube feeding.

She ate quite well on her own the last two days, and she really liked it when I praised her for doing that. Her pupils would contract and enlarge, she would tilt her head, and if I kept up the praise, she would bend down and nibble at her perch or the bars of her cage with a look of supreme pride and pleasure about her. The night before she died, she allowed me to scratch her head and neck for a long time after I had put her to bed. I had an odd feeling that this might be the last time I would be doing this, but I put it out of my mind. After all, she had seemed to be improving, and when I took her to the vet, I had been expecting good news.

African grey parrots are extraordinarily intelligent and perceptive beings. And as I think back, I am increasingly convinced that Stanley Sue knew that she didn't have long to live, and that she was as worried about me as I was worried about her. I think that she allowed herself to die at the vet's office, because she knew I couldn't take it to see her die at home. And she did many things over the last week or so that showed me she was trying to reassure me.

I've never had a rapport with another animal like the bond that I've had with Stanley Sue. In fact, in an odd way it almost seems demeaning to even call her an animal. She was a bright and vivid soul. She was one of my closest friends, and I am having a great deal of difficulty dealing with loss.

Thanks to everyone who reads this and to everyone who posts a response.

Bob

[Bubbas_Mom]

Bob-

I'm so sorry for your loss. Any pet that gets into our heart, be it bird, cat, dog, horse or ferret, is a treasure.

It occurred to me tonight, as I mourn the loss of my beloved Bubba, that I hate grieving as I'm sure you must, too.

And these words helped me a bit:

And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance. (Garth Brooks)

It hurts so much to lose our best friends, but those memories and the things we can giggle at somewhere down the road make this transitory pain worth it. Those years with Stanley Sue you had, and the years with Bubba I had...someday we'll remember, with only an ache instead of searing pain, how good we made it for them and how good they made it for us.

I'm glad Stanley Sue got you for a friend.

May God ease both of our hearts.

Jen