Best Friends
The Later Years
Eventually, Greg and I bought a house two hours away from our Toronto apartment. Moving day came, birds were the last to go out in the car with us. Their table was the last thing to go in the moving van. We put the cages in the back seat and didn't think too much of it. Half an hour into the trip and the birds were quiet -- so quiet -- no chirps or squawks, no fluttering wings. Kind of eerie. I looked in the back seat and saw Dancer sitting sedately, checking out the scenery. Glancing at Happy, I quickly took a second look. All I could see were the whites of his eyes...they were rolled way back; I talked to him and his eyes came down, then rolled right back up again. Greg pulled the car over and I quickly got Happy's cage onto my lap in the front seat. I talked to him and he'd calm down, then his eyes would roll back again. We rode that way for the rest of the trip. I was just panicked that my little Happy wasn't going to make it. All the way we rode -- me praying and talking, Happy responding, then fading out. But make it we did! The first thing that went into the house was the bird table, the birds quickly after. Nobody was allowed in the livingroom until the birds got their bearings; the in-laws moved us so we were able to give the birds lots of time to settle. It so happened that my mother-in-law was moving to the basement apartment of the house (but that's incidental to this story). The birds settled in nicely after a few days and we started the curtain-across-the- window and closed door routine all over again. It didn't take those two very long to know where they could fly. As I said, smart birds!
Contented little family in our new home. A few months into living there, Happy became listless, watery droppings and the cyst on his beak was growing; he rubbed and rubbed but it wouldn't come off. Okay -- new town, new vet. A young vet met us in the office and looked at Happy doubtfully. Didn't address the cyst on his face, although it was quite large at that time. She just shrugged and offered to give him a tonic. I agreed and she got something together and used an eyedropper to feed it to him. Within several minutes, he perked up. She pronounced that he had caught a cold. When I asked about the cyst, she shrugged and said that when she first saw him, she thought he was going to "croak on the spot anyways". That infuriated me. I said thanks and away we went, determined to find a vet once and for all who would know something about birds. In the meantime, I kept Happy warm and made sure he was eating well. After a few days, he seemed better and I had a reference from a co-worker on a vet a little distance outside of town. Away we went a few days later and what a blessing this practice turned out to be!
Chris the vet knew his way around birds and other exotic animals, as well as large farm animals and cats and dogs! He was a country vet. He handled Happy very gently and I didn't have to warn him to block the front of the cage door. He gently but thoroughly examined Happy's beak and said that these were common to budgies. They could be equated to a human cold sore. A cold sore! All these years with a cold sore! I could have kicked myself for not getting a second opinion those many years back, but not many vets were terribly interested in these small creatures. Chris did warn us that unless the "root" that causes these sores was removed, they would continue to pop up (notice I didn't say "crop" up) . He advised surgery to remove that root and carefully and fully explained the procedure. Of course, I was terrified and he reassured me that, while surgery on a little bird could be dangerous, he had done this often enough to know how to adjust the anethesia, pick out the root, and quickly wake the bird up. I really was reassured, surgery was set for a few days away. The day for surgery came and with much fretting and fussing and tears, I left Happy with Chris who, if he didn't understand my upset, put up a good front -- no side glances at my husband like "is she gonna get hysterical"? He suggested I call his assistant in a couple hours to see how things were going and we'd be able to bring Happy home late afternoon. I cried and I prayed that everything would be ok. And it was. Later that afternoon we picked up a quiet, but not the least bit groggy, little bird. Dancer squawked and danced, and we put Happy in Dancer's cage for a bit, where she groomed him - for a change! (She was a prima donna and usually insisted on Happy grooming her.) The cold sores never came back, and Happy eventually got to chirping again - although softer than ever, just litte chirps in the back of his throat.
We maintained the status quo for two more years when....
Contented little family in our new home. A few months into living there, Happy became listless, watery droppings and the cyst on his beak was growing; he rubbed and rubbed but it wouldn't come off. Okay -- new town, new vet. A young vet met us in the office and looked at Happy doubtfully. Didn't address the cyst on his face, although it was quite large at that time. She just shrugged and offered to give him a tonic. I agreed and she got something together and used an eyedropper to feed it to him. Within several minutes, he perked up. She pronounced that he had caught a cold. When I asked about the cyst, she shrugged and said that when she first saw him, she thought he was going to "croak on the spot anyways". That infuriated me. I said thanks and away we went, determined to find a vet once and for all who would know something about birds. In the meantime, I kept Happy warm and made sure he was eating well. After a few days, he seemed better and I had a reference from a co-worker on a vet a little distance outside of town. Away we went a few days later and what a blessing this practice turned out to be!
Chris the vet knew his way around birds and other exotic animals, as well as large farm animals and cats and dogs! He was a country vet. He handled Happy very gently and I didn't have to warn him to block the front of the cage door. He gently but thoroughly examined Happy's beak and said that these were common to budgies. They could be equated to a human cold sore. A cold sore! All these years with a cold sore! I could have kicked myself for not getting a second opinion those many years back, but not many vets were terribly interested in these small creatures. Chris did warn us that unless the "root" that causes these sores was removed, they would continue to pop up (notice I didn't say "crop" up) . He advised surgery to remove that root and carefully and fully explained the procedure. Of course, I was terrified and he reassured me that, while surgery on a little bird could be dangerous, he had done this often enough to know how to adjust the anethesia, pick out the root, and quickly wake the bird up. I really was reassured, surgery was set for a few days away. The day for surgery came and with much fretting and fussing and tears, I left Happy with Chris who, if he didn't understand my upset, put up a good front -- no side glances at my husband like "is she gonna get hysterical"? He suggested I call his assistant in a couple hours to see how things were going and we'd be able to bring Happy home late afternoon. I cried and I prayed that everything would be ok. And it was. Later that afternoon we picked up a quiet, but not the least bit groggy, little bird. Dancer squawked and danced, and we put Happy in Dancer's cage for a bit, where she groomed him - for a change! (She was a prima donna and usually insisted on Happy grooming her.) The cold sores never came back, and Happy eventually got to chirping again - although softer than ever, just litte chirps in the back of his throat.
We maintained the status quo for two more years when....