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I had a pet bird, a parakeet named Angel. I have had her for almost as long as I remember. We got her in August 1987. She died early in the morning on April 21, 1998. She appears to have died peacefully in her sleep. She did not appear or act sick prior to her death, so it was a real shocker to all of us, despite the fact that she was at least 10 1/2 years old. It is always hard to lose a pet, especially one that you love so dearly. We will all miss her greatly.
My mom never really did seem like Angel very much. She complained that Angel was too noisy and squawked too much. She would chirp if you were playing with her or playing music that she liked. Whenever my sister played on the piano Angel would sing along. She could be really sweet sometimes. Angel was a very pretty bird, but stubborn. We sometimes called her a little devil. Angel did not like it when we cleaned her cage. She would immediate throw seed down on the floor of the cage to make it dirty again and throw her toys everywhere sometimes too. I guess she liked it that way.
Angel was fun to play with and fun to watch. She loved to go for rides on my dad's head. He took her for walks around the house. And when Angel would fly around we never knew where she would end up. She just flew and flew until she got tired or hit a wall. Then if we didn't know where she had landed we would have to wait for her to timidly chirp as if asking, "Help? Where am I? Take me home!" She also liked to land on the ceiling fan and we would gently push it so it went slowly around. Angel loved it.
If we would tap on a table or on her cage she would start tapping with her beak right along with us and then look up and chirp. If she was out of her cage she would come over and grab ahold of your finger with her beak as you tapped so that she bounced up and down and she would chirp. She was so silly. One time she bit me so hard that I jerked my hand back, she let go, and fluttered to the floor. She sat there for a second, kind of stunned, then looked back up at me with eyes that seemed to ask, "Now what in the world did you do that for, you silly girl!" I then coaxed her onto my finger as I apologized to her over and over and brought her back up to her cage, to safety.
I remember not long after we first got her, I was about 7, and I let her out of her cage when no one else was in the house. She hopped out and started hopping across the carpet. I was terrified. I didn't know how to get her back in her cage, I didn't want her to bite or claw me, and I was afraid someone would open the front door and she would escape. When my parents returned a few minutes later I ran to the door nearly in tears and warned them that Angel was out of her cage. My mom came in and put Angel back in her cage. I just walked over there and looked in cage and said, "Don't you ever do that to me again!" I hadn't expected her to actually come out when I opened her cage door. I didn't do that again for quite awhile.
Angel was very destructive. We went through many perches, some with mirrors on them, many toys with bells, etc. She pecked at stuff and bit it, pulling on it, and ended up breaking everything. She never could understand why things would disappear from her cage or be half-broken. We had a fake bird that attached to one of her perches in the cage with her. She loved that bird, and usually acted like she thought it was real. She would snuggle up next to it, or try to preen its feathers. Sometimes she would pretend to fight with it, pecking at it playfully and chirping. She would sing to it, but it never did anything back. She never gave up though. It was her friend, her companion. Since we didn't have another real bird for her, it was the closest thing.
As I was talking to my mom on the phone when she called me to tell me the news, she began thinking back to all of the things that Angel used to do. When my mom discovered Angel dead in her cage when she went to uncover her cage in the morning, she started crying and telling Angel that it would be ok, to wake up, and that she hadn't really meant it when she threatened her life, which she did anytime that the bird would annoy her. She took it about as hard as I did, only I didn't show it as much when I was on the phone. I waited 'til I hung up then burst into tears. I've never really had to deal with the loss of a pet before. My sister had a guinea pig that died after we hadn't had it very long (maybe a year or two at most?). I was 9 at the time I think, and it was her pet, not mine. Angel was my pet. I was the one that usually took care of her, played with her, and talked to her, until I went off to this school two years ago. My mom realizes now just how much she loved that bird and how much she will miss her. I don't know how my dad feels about this. They buried her in our backyard between two little pine trees. They put her in a box with some of her favorite toys and her friend, the fake bird.
As I remember more things about her, I will add them. I am very sad and regret not spending more time with her the last few times I had a chance. I am sorry she died, but glad that it appeared to be painless. She is in a better place now with no more walls to fly into, she can fly all the time, no cage, no boundaries, just happiness, singing, and other birds. I am happy for her.
Maybe I will get another bird someday...