A few years ago I lost Freckles, the only other "guy" in the household, to fatty liver disease. He went in under anesthesia (for tests) and did not recover.
... this is much harder than I had thought ... even after all this time there is still a great big hole in my life and heart that only Freckles was able to fill ... so ... in great pain I give you my tribute to my friend:

Freckles (the Cockatiel)

Hear one, hear all
The very sad news
I’ve joined your club
I’ve paid my dues

I now know of what you speak
When needed the words you seek
Are simply just not there
Leaving you standing, gasping in despair

It’s just a bird, they say
Not knowing what that means
To have lost a friend today
As down your face a single tear streams

And time stands still, when comes the silent roar
As you hear those words so clear
Heralding what the future has in store
Refusing to accept, to believe, as you face your greatest fear

“He was just a bird!”
But that’s not true
He was my friend
I’m telling you!

“He’s gone,” he says with whispered voice
As the blood rushes to your head
And you know, if he’d only had the choice
He would not want to say, “Your friend is dead”

So here I sit, contemplating
Is this a dream or is this real
So, here I sit, waiting
Trying hard to just, not feel

Fare thee well my little friend
We shall meet again once more
As we all gather in the end
To stand together in front of heavens door

“I Love you Freckles!”


Some time in late 1997 or early 1998, somewhere in California, there hatched an egg that would touch the life of my family forever. There is not much known about the early months or years of his life, suffice it to say that it would be a well placed bet that they had not been rosy.
I truly wish that we had met earlier and under much more favorable conditions for the both of us, but it was not to be. I will forevermore have to contend myself with the time that we did have together, and garner comfort and strength from that.
We turned out to be fairly good friends in an odd sort of way, more of a continued acceptance to be in his presence on his part than mine wanting to push myself on him at any time. Mutual respect and maybe a bit in love with each other but very needy for that feeling of belonging, something that he had never felt before in his short life at all, ever.
My wife Katrin could not get away with doing some of the things to and with him that I was able to towards the end of our time together, much to both of our amusement.
He was a very Macho and testosterone driven little guy, which in turn made me feel not so alone as well in a household of females.
He came to us from a family consisting of a single mom with an 8 year old daughter and two grumpy dogs. Never ever was he allowed outside his cage and his diet consisted of nothing but seed and fresh water maybe every other day. These are not the best of conditions, but are at least survivable. The one thing that he did dread I would imagine, and lived in daily terror of, would have been the poking and prodding that he received with a stick on a daily basis if not hourly with the little girl on the other end.
There are other stories that I have heard, of what had been done to him, by acquaintances of both our families and they are credible. Needless to say, the day we brought him home was probably the best day of his young life, as that was the start of something wonderful.
I don’t think that he had ever had any dealings with men at all as he reacted much differently to myself than to my wife.
If she got anywhere near him he would immediately spread tail feathers, butt up, spread wings and hiss like mad all the while attacking with his oh so dangerous and deadly beak. He was a sight to see, his “maleness” on display and the “You want a piece of me?” attitude still strong in his little chest even after all that time of being beaten down.
When I approached him it was a bit different, I am not sure if he has ever had the chance to interact with men because I don’t think he quite knew what to do with me. He would eventually do the same attack stance if I got too close, but it took longer to get him going.
Katrin never did get to be close to him and often still had to use the perch as a tool to get him to step-up so she could transport him from play stand to cage or windowsill.
We are both very patient people and were just happy to see him start to blossom day by day without putting any stress or strain on him at all.
After a few weeks of changed diet to Harrison’s, to which he took without much trouble, he looked healthier and fuller and his feathers had gotten a shine to them now. Oh, did I forget to mention that he was just an outside bird and not an indoor one? Always exposed to the elements and whatever else Mother Nature could throw at him. Ok, so we here in San Diego don’t have the worst weather in the world, but still!
He looked fabulous, just one of the most handsome bird dudes I have ever come across, with his little crest that stood straight up when something peaked his interest. He looked like a miniature version of Don King, and brought many a smile to my face with just his body language.
Also living with us is BB, our little (blonde) girl ‘tiel with whom he fell madly in love with and on a daily basis if not almost hourly on some days tried to serenade her and impress her with his singing capabilities, which were very annoying and lacking as far as talent was concerned.
Crouched low to the ground and wings slightly spread, crest up, strutting sideways, tail feathers fanned out and vocalizing as loud and as long as he can and just generally letting the “Dude” hang out in the hopes of finally impressing BB.
This was pretty much a daily thing and Katrin and I had started to take turns on designing creative ways of doing him in just to get him to stop. Needless to say it was very annoying. The guy had nothing new in his repertoire and it was driving us nuts. BB on the other hand was either deaf or very good at ignoring him.
And we knew that she could hear, because every time we had had any dealings with anything remotely resembling something that could maybe possibly be something just even slightly edible and out of eyesight but not earshot, she would be there stiff as a board standing straight up with crest flying high all the while yelling at us “Feed Me!” You know, just in case it was something she might want to stuff down her beak.
This was the life that we all fell in love with and the life that we all wanted to continue living with each other no matter how annoying some things might have gotten at times.
Alas, in his short life he had to contend with someone that suffered from a perpetual headache and never did get to “sow his oats”, not even once.
But one of the nice things about him being preoccupied with trying to get BB’s attention was that he was concentrating so hard on doing everything just right that he allowed myself to get closer and closer, until I could touch my nose to his head and give him a big kiss there too.
At first he did not like that at all and went ballistic, scolding me and charging me, trying to take the nose right off of my face, but towards the end I think he was actually looking forward to it, seeing as how he was not getting any response from BB.
Now if only he would have been made out of food.
I never was able to use my hands or fingers with him in any other fashion other than to get him to step up for transport to the windowsill or to the cage or just where ever BB was at the moment. I was able to kiss his belly without getting my face shredded, but only once at a time and then it was enough.
Katrin would have lost her entire face; he had this thing about women.
The one thing that we had tried for years to do was finally granted to me at the very end.
He had always seen what we did with BB and that was to scratch her head, and we could just tell this was something that he too wanted very much but just could not ever get over the fact that fingers and hands did bad things too and not just scratches and hugs and stuff.
We could take BB’s head and just about knead it into any shape we wanted, all the while keeping her eyes closed and neck extended and if she had been a cat the neighbors down the block would have been able to hear her purr.
When the time came to say goodbye, I think we both knew it would be the last time we would see each other.
Before he was taken away we did have the opportunity to spend the last moments together with him perching on my finger and looking up at me. There was something there in his eyes that told me everything that I needed to know, and even though I had to leave with heavy heart, my spirit rejoiced at the thought that he would be well again in a place that was filled with ‘tiel babes not only interested in food.
As he looked up at me, he did the most remarkable thing, something that I had longed for, for such a very long time, and it broke my heart, as my soul tore to shreds and tears streamed down my face he lowered his head and gave me that oh so distinct little squeak BB would make when she wanted to be scratched and loved.
For the first and last time I was able to scratch my friends head and watch as his eyes closed with pleasure at the knowledge that he was loved now and forever.
He is dearly missed.

__________________
For thirty years he talked in feathered pride
For thirty years he talked before he died.
You say that parrots do not really know
The meaning of the words they speak? Just so,
I grant you that you may be right - but then,
Do men? Theodore Stephanides

What a beautiful touching tribute to Freckles.

Rest in peace little Freckles

that is wonderful Mike.

Beautiful story, but so sad. Feel comfort in knowing that Freckles was destined to share his last living years with you and passed finally knowing happiness and love.