Rosie the Cockateil:

Rosie joined our household several years ago. Previous owners did not pay much attention to her and we got here through a friend. The morning I asked Terry if we wanted a bird I hardly had the question our of my mouth and Terry almost shouted we'll take her.

Rosie had a problem beak. The upper beak extended over the bottom beak which is not natural. In the end I believe it is what caused Rosie's demise. She could no longer feed herself and that ended her life.

The important thing is Rosie's life. She had a large cage. We left the door open when we were here and she was free to move about as she wished. She did not fly well, the previous owners had clipped both flight feathers and tail feathers. Eventually they grew out, but she never did succeed at flying. Each attempt was iffy. Sometimes she landed, sometimes she crashed, but her flights were most often an adventure because you didn't know where she would end up.

She was a very standoffish bird. Rosie was not accustomed to being handled, therefore didn't tolerate our handling her very much. From time to time she would perch on our shoulder or sit on a hand, but petting her was out of the question.

Still we grew to love her and took her into our family. We cared for her, she got a big cage, good food and we spend time talking to her and loving her as much as she would allow.

The last few days of her life she became a lover. She flew to us, she nestled, curled in Terry's hand to sleep. She tried to eat, desperately. In the end I think she gave in and just wanted to be held. Last night she sat on Terry's lap, curled in her hand, snuggled and wanted to sit on our dog Cilia. (I'm having a hard time writing this section) She would get on your shoulder, lean her head against your neck and go to sleep.

This morning when Terry uncovered the cage she was sitting in the bottom with her head tucked under her wing. That was unusual for she never slept on the bottom of her cage but always on a perch or the plastic tray nest she had adopted. She never moved again. About 9:30 Terry looked in the cage and said Rosie is lying down, I think she is dead. I picked her up, she was gone.

My mind is filled with all kinds of poignant images of her last days. Was she pleading for help, was she saying good bye? I don't know but right now I am greatly disturbed by the thought, should we have taken her to a vet? It is too late now.

Enough of the morbidity. I never thought I would like a bird. My daughter Jenny had one and I had a hard time with its noise. Rosie's behavior was different. She would run across the bottom of her cage at night telling you that she wanted to go to bed. If I approached her cage and told her to get up there she would climb to a perch and wait until I covered the cage. She would be quiet all night long, except for one night when Al the cat sat by her cage. I grew to love her and find myself weeping over a bird.

She responded vigorously to the alarm calls of Blue Jays. That was a little annoying at times, now I wish she would call out again. Terry has her cage covered until she can work up the nerve to clean it. I sit here wishing she would peep.

I buried her alongside my first Golden Retriever Captain. They were both good pets and maybe in death they will be good to one another. I know this about Captain, he will take good care of her.

Well, Rosie the Cockateil we shall miss you. You really had a good impact on our lives. I wish we had done more for you, but you were loved.