Prev: Dying Dog - Mystical Experiences
Next: Dogs; On Death And Grieving - Mourning; An Update
From: jimdep1 on 12 Sep 2005 13:05

Henri (Henrietta-green and yellow female) has been a member of our
family for 8 ½ years. As a baby bird, we named her "Henry" after
one of the green engines from the Thomas the Tank Engine series, while
our son was still a little boy. Henry turned out to be a girl, but we
kept the name.

She passed away yesterday several hours of seizures and fighting for
her life. My wife, Cindy and I couldn't find an emergency avian vet
anywhere on a Sunday to return our calls. We are somewhat new to this
area (northeast MA) and wrongly assumed that local avian vets would
respond to the emergency numbers on their message machines. We spent
aggravating hours leaving messages and waiting for return calls that
never happened. We called local pet stores, but they had the same
phones numbers as we did. The animal hospitals within wide range did
not have an avian vet on duty. I believe that Henri probably
wouldn't have survived anyway, but we were willing to do whatever was
necessary to save her. Today, I am typing through tears feeling
compelled to describe what happened.

Henri and George (2 1/2 year old white and blue male) have lived
together in the same cage we keep suspended from the ceiling in the
living room. George and Henri absolutely adored each other. Henri was
like a mother to George, and took to him immediately. We let them out
during the day, and cover them at night. They always stayed close to
the cage, and got plenty of exercise. One of the many games we had
with Henri was saying "Fly Henri, Fly!" She'd get all excited and
do couple loops in the room and then return to the top of her cage.
Although neither bird would talk like people, George could softly say
Herni's name in a question sound, "Henri?"

The night before last, about 4am, my wife and I awoke to a loud
distress call from one of our two parakeets in the living room. It was
a horrible lower pitched sound that I haven't heard before. Sometimes
George will have a panic during the night, but this was different. It
was a steady, loud and fast CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP . My wife
said "That sounds like Henri!!" I quickly went into the living
room, called to the birds, turned on a light, lifted the cover and
discovered them both on the bottom of the cage, instead of their usual
perching spot during the night. In a panic, they flew out of the cage.
George went up to his usual spot on the curtain rod, but Henri went
straight down to the floor. She looked totally frightened and
disoriented.
I bent down, put my finger out and said "Step up, Henri", but she
flew forward, crashed into one object, and then another like she was
blind. I followed and called out to her as she kept flying aimlessly.
Now I'm worried that she'd have a heart attack from being pursued,
or injure herself by flying into a wall. After I was able to cup my
hands around her to escort her back to her cage, I noticed that her
little heart was beating very fast. I placed her onto the perch in the
cage, George returned, and I covered them back up. I talked calmly with
them for a few minutes, all seemed normal and I returned to bed. I
remember telling my wife, "It's like Herni was flying around
blind."

About a half hour later, we again woke to the loud, fast and steady
CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP. This time we both sprang out of bed. We
removed the cover, opened the cage, George flew out, and Henri remained
in the cage, continuing this horrible sound. My wife took Henri out,
and talked soothingly to her, but now Henri appears to be having a
seizure. I gave my familiar "charge" whistle and few other whistle
sounds she was familiar with over the years, and she stopped squawking
for about a minute or so, and then the attack returned. She was
squawking loudly and her whole left side was spasming. Her heart was
pounding while her left wing and foot were twitching uncontrollably.
The phone calls for emergency assistance started, but without success.
We took turns holding her, making sure to keep her warm. George
reacted by watching from the curtain road and occasionally swooped over
us, and squawked while looking at Henri the whole time. We all felt
completely helpless.

This agonizing episode continued for hours as we held her. Henri kept
squawking loudly, her body and head twitching, but little by little she
was getting weaker. She hadn't responded to our voices since her
first seizure. We held her, talked to her; put a cue tip with warm
water up to her beak while her tongue dabbled at it. We allowed George
some alone time with Henri on top of the cage, while he chattered at
her and preened her feathers. She looked completely disoriented, moving
in circles. This was heartwarming behavior from George, but very tough
to watch, with the reality that we going to lose her.

Again, Cindy and I held Henri, while we continued all morning trying to
get emergency assistance. After 1pm, Henri became quiet for a while, as
Cindy kept him nuzzled against her shoulder. While Henri looked more
relaxed, I told her it was ok to go to sleep. Then in a last burst of
energy, she squawked, and began flapping her wings furiously as though
she regained consciousness. Cindy said soothingly, "Fly, Henri,
Fly". Henri relaxed and all the energy left her body. As she took her
last breath, Cindy again said "Fly Henri, Fly."

After regaining my composure, I let George see Henri's body, gave him
some alone time with her on top of the cage and I'm sure that helped
him understand what had happened. He was defiantly grieving. He nudged
her body a few time, chattered and squawked angrily, and gently preened
her feathers. A few times he'd be silent, and then said "Henri?"
as though asking a question. We gave George plenty of attention for the
rest of the day, and I stayed in the living room last night with him
for a while after covering the cage and talked to him.

This morning George is very quiet, sits in one spot and blinks his
eyes. He's not dive bombing me like he usually does, playing with his
toys or flying at all. I talk to him, he moves his head to show he's
listening, says "Henri?" now and then, but that' about it.

I am not intentionally trying to portray George's reaction as being
human, however his behavior since Henri's death has changed, and I
interpret this as his way of grieving.

Additional information regarding Henri's seizure and death
shows there was no diarrhea or vomiting. She continued passing stools
normally until she died. During her last hour before death, her tongue
was no longer responding to the water drops.
I don't know what killed her, but we'd like to find out.

I continually question myself about what I could have or should have
done differently. If I had left her alone when she flew out of the
cage, could that have prevented the seizure? I don't know, but I my
instincts told me to get her back in the cage so she wouldn't hurt
herself by crashing into something. We painfully learned that we need
to have a plan in place for our pets, if they should ever need
emergency care that isn't during animal hospital business hours. The
system that we thought was in place, failed. Once I recover a little
more emotionally, I will contact these vets that didn't return our
calls. Again, I don't know if there's any thing they could have
done for Henri, other than make her more comfortable. Under a vet's
care, we would have been willing to do that.

I appreciate those of you who took the time to read this. Henri was
part of our family and she is greatly missed and will be always in our
hearts and prayers. Yesterday was our son's 13th birthday, and he
had to leave the house by mid morning to deal with this in his own way.
Since 9/11/2002, he almost expects something bad to happen on his
birthday. This didn't help. We tried to make his birthday cheerful
for him the best we could, but it wasn't easy. We plan to get George
another female parakeet, but right now, I'm not sure how long to
wait. This is a grueling experience and I welcome questions or
comments.
Again, thanks for reading.

Jim

From: Wayne Boatwright on 12 Sep 2005 15:23
On Mon 12 Sep 2005 10:05:12a, wrote in alt.support.grief.pet-loss:

> Henri (Henrietta-green and yellow female) has been a member of our
> family for 8 ? years. As a baby bird, we named her "Henry" after
> one of the green engines from the Thomas the Tank Engine series, while
> our son was still a little boy. Henry turned out to be a girl, but we
> kept the name.

Jim,

It's always hard to know what to say at times like these. Losing anyone you
love is heartbreaking and tragic, and leaves a huge void that takes a long
time to fill. With almost every loss, be it a pet, family memeber, or
friend, we often feel as though there was something else we should have done
or said. In reality, we usually have done absolutely all we could.

I'm so sorry for your family's loss. I hope your days are brighter very
soon.

--
Wayne Boatwright *?*
____________________________________________

Give me a smart idiot over a stupid genius any day.
Sam Goldwyn, 1882-1974
From: jimdep1 on 12 Sep 2005 16:55
My regret is not leaving her alone when she flew down to the floor.
I'm sure I stressed her out during the pursuit, but I was afraid she'd
fly into a wall and break her neck. It was like she had no control over
where she was flying, and she wasn't flying well at all. It was a real
effort for her. Her heart was beating so fast when I caught her. My
guess is that this whole pursuit lasted under 2 minutes, but I'm not
feeling good about possibly causing her a heart attack, if that's what
happend.

Thanks for your kind words, Wayne. That helps me cope right now.

From: K2 on 12 Sep 2005 20:14
I am so sorry for your loss.
You should find the nearest emergency veterinarian & keep the phone # and
directions handy in case you ever need veterinary care in the middle of the
night. www.massvet.org - you can find a veterinarian & search for emergency
vets in your area.

Kim

<jimdep1(a)yahoo.com> wrote in message
news:1126544712.885486.273170(a)g43g2000cwa.googlegroups.com...

Henri (Henrietta-green and yellow female) has been a member of our
family for 8 ? years. As a baby bird, we named her "Henry" after
one of the green engines from the Thomas the Tank Engine series, while
our son was still a little boy. Henry turned out to be a girl, but we
kept the name.

She passed away yesterday several hours of seizures and fighting for
her life. My wife, Cindy and I couldn't find an emergency avian vet
anywhere on a Sunday to return our calls. We are somewhat new to this
area (northeast MA) and wrongly assumed that local avian vets would
respond to the emergency numbers on their message machines. We spent
aggravating hours leaving messages and waiting for return calls that
never happened. We called local pet stores, but they had the same
phones numbers as we did. The animal hospitals within wide range did
not have an avian vet on duty. I believe that Henri probably
wouldn't have survived anyway, but we were willing to do whatever was
necessary to save her. Today, I am typing through tears feeling
compelled to describe what happened.

Henri and George (2 1/2 year old white and blue male) have lived
together in the same cage we keep suspended from the ceiling in the
living room. George and Henri absolutely adored each other. Henri was
like a mother to George, and took to him immediately. We let them out
during the day, and cover them at night. They always stayed close to
the cage, and got plenty of exercise. One of the many games we had
with Henri was saying "Fly Henri, Fly!" She'd get all excited and
do couple loops in the room and then return to the top of her cage.
Although neither bird would talk like people, George could softly say
Herni's name in a question sound, "Henri?"

The night before last, about 4am, my wife and I awoke to a loud
distress call from one of our two parakeets in the living room. It was
a horrible lower pitched sound that I haven't heard before. Sometimes
George will have a panic during the night, but this was different. It
was a steady, loud and fast CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP . My wife
said "That sounds like Henri!!" I quickly went into the living
room, called to the birds, turned on a light, lifted the cover and
discovered them both on the bottom of the cage, instead of their usual
perching spot during the night. In a panic, they flew out of the cage.
George went up to his usual spot on the curtain rod, but Henri went
straight down to the floor. She looked totally frightened and
disoriented.
I bent down, put my finger out and said "Step up, Henri", but she
flew forward, crashed into one object, and then another like she was
blind. I followed and called out to her as she kept flying aimlessly.
Now I'm worried that she'd have a heart attack from being pursued,
or injure herself by flying into a wall. After I was able to cup my
hands around her to escort her back to her cage, I noticed that her
little heart was beating very fast. I placed her onto the perch in the
cage, George returned, and I covered them back up. I talked calmly with
them for a few minutes, all seemed normal and I returned to bed. I
remember telling my wife, "It's like Herni was flying around
blind."

About a half hour later, we again woke to the loud, fast and steady
CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP. This time we both sprang out of bed. We
removed the cover, opened the cage, George flew out, and Henri remained
in the cage, continuing this horrible sound. My wife took Henri out,
and talked soothingly to her, but now Henri appears to be having a
seizure. I gave my familiar "charge" whistle and few other whistle
sounds she was familiar with over the years, and she stopped squawking
for about a minute or so, and then the attack returned. She was
squawking loudly and her whole left side was spasming. Her heart was
pounding while her left wing and foot were twitching uncontrollably.
The phone calls for emergency assistance started, but without success.
We took turns holding her, making sure to keep her warm. George
reacted by watching from the curtain road and occasionally swooped over
us, and squawked while looking at Henri the whole time. We all felt
completely helpless.

This agonizing episode continued for hours as we held her. Henri kept
squawking loudly, her body and head twitching, but little by little she
was getting weaker. She hadn't responded to our voices since her
first seizure. We held her, talked to her; put a cue tip with warm
water up to her beak while her tongue dabbled at it. We allowed George
some alone time with Henri on top of the cage, while he chattered at
her and preened her feathers. She looked completely disoriented, moving
in circles. This was heartwarming behavior from George, but very tough
to watch, with the reality that we going to lose her.

Again, Cindy and I held Henri, while we continued all morning trying to
get emergency assistance. After 1pm, Henri became quiet for a while, as
Cindy kept him nuzzled against her shoulder. While Henri looked more
relaxed, I told her it was ok to go to sleep. Then in a last burst of
energy, she squawked, and began flapping her wings furiously as though
she regained consciousness. Cindy said soothingly, "Fly, Henri,
Fly". Henri relaxed and all the energy left her body. As she took her
last breath, Cindy again said "Fly Henri, Fly."

After regaining my composure, I let George see Henri's body, gave him
some alone time with her on top of the cage and I'm sure that helped
him understand what had happened. He was defiantly grieving. He nudged
her body a few time, chattered and squawked angrily, and gently preened
her feathers. A few times he'd be silent, and then said "Henri?"
as though asking a question. We gave George plenty of attention for the
rest of the day, and I stayed in the living room last night with him
for a while after covering the cage and talked to him.

This morning George is very quiet, sits in one spot and blinks his
eyes. He's not dive bombing me like he usually does, playing with his
toys or flying at all. I talk to him, he moves his head to show he's
listening, says "Henri?" now and then, but that' about it.

I am not intentionally trying to portray George's reaction as being
human, however his behavior since Henri's death has changed, and I
interpret this as his way of grieving.

Additional information regarding Henri's seizure and death
shows there was no diarrhea or vomiting. She continued passing stools
normally until she died. During her last hour before death, her tongue
was no longer responding to the water drops.
I don't know what killed her, but we'd like to find out.

I continually question myself about what I could have or should have
done differently. If I had left her alone when she flew out of the
cage, could that have prevented the seizure? I don't know, but I my
instincts told me to get her back in the cage so she wouldn't hurt
herself by crashing into something. We painfully learned that we need
to have a plan in place for our pets, if they should ever need
emergency care that isn't during animal hospital business hours. The
system that we thought was in place, failed. Once I recover a little
more emotionally, I will contact these vets that didn't return our
calls. Again, I don't know if there's any thing they could have
done for Henri, other than make her more comfortable. Under a vet's
care, we would have been willing to do that.

I appreciate those of you who took the time to read this. Henri was
part of our family and she is greatly missed and will be always in our
hearts and prayers. Yesterday was our son's 13th birthday, and he
had to leave the house by mid morning to deal with this in his own way.
Since 9/11/2002, he almost expects something bad to happen on his
birthday. This didn't help. We tried to make his birthday cheerful
for him the best we could, but it wasn't easy. We plan to get George
another female parakeet, but right now, I'm not sure how long to
wait. This is a grueling experience and I welcome questions or
comments.
Again, thanks for reading.

Jim


From: jimdep1 on 12 Sep 2005 23:19
Kim,
Thanks for thoughts and providing me this link.
I will go through it and see what emergency care
might be available. This time I will call before there is
an incident and find out what the plan is during weekends and after
hours.

 |  Next  |  Last
Pages: 1 2 3 4
Prev: Dying Dog - Mystical Experiences
Next: Dogs; On Death And Grieving - Mourning; An Update