This is a true story that happened in late August 1999: We have a beautiful 4year old Patagonian Conure Parrot named Kiwi whom both my husband and I adore. He has been our "baby" since we got him at 8 weeks old.
Kiwi has had his wings clipped so he runs around following us or plays in his wooden boxes his daddy built for him complete with a battery light inside and a bell at the door; They are full of his buds which are Beanies and toys from Animal Crackers and McDonalds. I have kept all of his feathers each year that he molts, they are beautiful in dry arrangements and use for book marks and give to our friends:
I never realized how precious his feathers were untill one day I accidentally stepped on his tail, he squawked and ran, I thought I had killed him or hurt him badly: I looked down and saw his beautiful tail laying on the floor. I gathered him up and checked to see if he was bleeding, not a drop of blood: He was Ok! I was crying and shaking so hard I scared him, he still wanted to cuddle with me, trying to comfort me even when he must have been hurting himself. I held him tight and just told him how much I loved him and how sorry I was for hurting him and thanked God that I had not hurt him worse.
I called our Vet Dr. Don to see what I should do for him, Dr. Don said "not to worry in a couple of months he would have the most beautiful tail he has ever had. He explained to me that birds have a way of ejecting their feathers, when a predator grabs onto them; to protect them and give them time to get away." The predator comes away with a mouth full of feathers, giving the bird time to get away.
I then went over and picked up 12 of the most beautiful tail feathers I had ever seen. The ones he takes the most pride in penning each and every one of them every day. I took each of his feathers and looked at them like I had never seen them before, as I made a beautiful feather arrangement with them, each one is so different in its own beautiful way. The downy ones felt like silk between my fingers and rippled in the breeze. The long sleek ones, two of them 13 inches long, would certainly make the most elegant pen to write with.
Tears come to my eyes each time I look at Kiwi without his beautiful tail; he has never lost them all at one time. It took me a few days to realize just how blessed we were that I had not stepped on his body. This reminded me that we have a God who truly does love and take care of "ALL THE LITTLE BIRDIES, THE BIG AND THE SMALL, THE RED, BLUE, YELLOW AND GREEN" he loves them all. We are truly blessed to have a God who does not discard us because of our faults or how bad we look.
Those 12 feathers Kiwi lost are the most treasured of all his feathers; they stand proudly in an arrangement on the table and everytime I look at them I tear up and just thank God for protecting our "baby". I believe that Kiwi has forgiven me as I forgive him each time he pinches my ear with his beak to get attention or to give birdie kisses:
Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge. When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so that they can run and play together. There is plenty of food and water and sunshine, and our friends there are warm and comfortable. All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to perfect health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again just as we remember them in our dreams of years and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing - they each miss someone very special to them, who had to stay behind when the beloved pet went away.
They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks up - the bright eyes are intent, the body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, his body flying over the green grass, his legs hurrying faster and faster. You have been spotted - and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The sweet loving kisses rain upon your face, your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your dear pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.
LEND ME A BIRD
A VERY INFORMATIVE PARROT SITE
THE WORLD PARROT TRUST
Breeding success in burrowing Parrots
ABOUT BIRDS
POLLS FOR BIRD PET OWNERS
JOIN THE'BIRD PATROL'
IMPORTANT!!
Please visit Our very own 'Desert Bird Dad'.
Back From Iraq.
PATAGONIAN CHAT
OPEN ON FRIDAYS: Please take note of our schedule.
9:00 p.m. Eastern Standard Time .......... Mon. 10:00 a.m. Western Time
8:00 p.m. Central Standard Time .......... Mon. 11:00 a.m. Central Time
7:00 p.m. Mountain Standard Time ........... Mon. 12:00 a.m. Eastern Time
6:00 p.m. Pacific Standard Time .......... 5:00 p.m. Alaskan Standard Time
4:00 p.m. Hawaiian Standard Time
 | |
Click Here! |
|