R.I.P. Chico 2-10-2005 - 14-4-2013 |
Chico came into my life after the death of Pimbootje. Pimbootje had been my loyal companion for a mere two years. She died in my hands on October 1st, 2005. And on October 2nd, one of my aunts called me to announce that a parakeet was waiting for me at her place. I couldn't and didn't want to believe it! I didn't even know if I was ready for a new bird already. I went to my aunt's house, on condition that it was a young, male and blue parakeet. Otherwise, I wouldn't accept it. That much I told my dad who was getting pretty nervous and kind of irritated of all the conditions I was setting. Anyway, when we arrived at my aunt's place and I saw those big black eyes, that tiny pink nose and that - in comparison with the rest of his blue body - big beak, I was completely and irrevocably in love. I knew this was my Chico, my boy. I know now that God brought us together for a reason: to have a happy and worthy life together and to spend as many beautiful moments as possible together.
You know, Chico was such a cheerful companion: always whistling when I came in, begging to leave his cage, always begging to taste some human food. He ate practically everything, even chicken, fish and pizza. Oh, how he loved to eat the ham from the pizza Hawaï! I have many pictures showing Chico eating something, but I want to share with you some of the last ones I took. These were taken last Friday:
I always told people that in reality, Chico wasn't a bird, but in fact a human being put in the body of a parakeet. Somehow, God made a mistake and put him - I think - on purpose in the wrong body. I mean, Chico certainly felt my emotions and reacted upon them. When I was sad, he was always by my side. When I was crying, he even drank my tears. When I was happy, he flapped his wings. He just adored the noise of creaking plastic and paper being torn apart. It made him whistle even harder than usually. What other habits did he have? Oh yes, he used to attack and damage my books and - mostly important - papers with his tiny beak. I'm happy now to have a few books and papers wearing the traces of a parakeet named Chico. It's his signature. Now he's lying in my fridge, waiting until Tuesday, when somebody is going to take Chico with him to stuff him. Some people find the thought repulsive, but for me it's a small comfort that I'll still have him at my side. I've done it before with two other parakeets, Pimbootje and Prutske II. They are still with me, although they are very silent right now. I'll have a lot of trouble adjusting to the fact that Chico will be standing there, as silent as he never ever was. I mean, my room is so terribly quiet right now. You immediately notice something is wrong, something is missing here. And that is the presence of my lovely blue boy...
Chico was a very sociable parakeet. He usually didn't have trouble to greet strangers. Mostly, he first flew to one of his small playgrounds to observe the stranger, but soon after that he went to say hi to him or her by flying to his/her shoulder. That was his favourite place, the shoulder. Or maybe the second best place, because he enjoyed his playgrounds, especially the big one at the mirror. You know, last Wednesday we were watching the Champions League game Barça - Paris Saint Germain together, and he spent the entire game sitting on my right shoulder. He flew two or three times to his cage to eat and drink, but immediately after that he returned to the safety of my shoulder. Last Friday, this picture was taken and I've converted it into my Facebook profile picture:
Luckily I made some movies and pictures during the past two weeks, because everyone, including myself, had to admit that Chico's health was deteriorating. And fast, it seemed. It started a couple of weeks ago, when he was barely awake during the day. He sat in his cage more often than usually, and he enjoyed sleeping on his favourite places in my room. I thought he was just enjoying his old age, because let's be honest, 7 and a half years for a parakeet is a normal, if not high, age. It could have been a lot more, yes, but at the same time it could have been a lot less too, and I'm thankful to God for every single moment we spent together. The past two weeks he'd been suffering from respiratory problems and loss of balance. Something was wrong, that much was clear, but what? And as he couldn't handle any stress - for that would cause his respiration to go even faster - I decided not to take him to the vet, because then he has to go into a small cage he doesn't like at all. So I spared him the stress. I did call the vet, and she subscribed him some meds that would take away any infection, if there was one. The meds seemed to help, until today... Here follows a movie made last week. Just press the button and enjoy his craziness...
Although we both knew that something was terribly wrong, we didn't admit defeat, and especially Chico not, because he really didn't want to die. He wanted to be with me a little while longer. He was fighting as I've never seen before. A truly worthy Kung-fu parakeet! Every time he was short of breath, he took the time to recover, and he never complained. I mean, he kept on flying from one place to the other, whether he was short of breath or not. He was so exceedingly obnoxious, just like his boss... Let's dig up some old pictures of Chico, when he was still young and as vital as could be.
Luckily I have all these beautiful pictures and movies to cherish the quality time moments spent together. I just have to admit defeat now, and I have to trust that he is now with God, watching from above, watching my every move. I'll show you two videos made a short while ago: (The second video seems boring at the beginning, but keep on watching and you'll hear Chico talk!)
Dear Chico, lief keppetje, broerke van me, I'm going to miss you so very much. Only you know how much you meant to me. It'll be so tough to go on without you... No more sharing of food - and preferably everything sweet! - no more reading the bible together... You were always eager to hear me read the word of God aloud... No more talking to moving bottles or any wall you could find in my room, no more kisses, no more flying around my room... You have no idea how broken-hearted I am right now. There are no words to express how sad I am and how deep my love was and still is for you... Gonna miss you, buddy. Or to say it in your own words: "Te quiero Chico"...
My deceased little warrior, in the lap of his favourite bear, Lotje |
Will there come another little animal in my life? I do think so. I'm keeping my eyes open to find a worthy brother or sister for Chico. I have my specific conditions once again: blue, male, baby parakeet or forpus parrot. A forpus parrot is the smallest parrot on this plannet. Here's what they look like:
Things will never be the same again, but I can't bear the silence in my room right now. I know I should go to sleep, but I feel so restless... I know that a baby parakeet or parrot could do wonders. I'll keep you posted. Keep your fingers crossed that I encounter the bird that is destined for me. It has to be love at first sight, I know exactly how it has to feel. Maybe I'll have to be patient, that's possible. But I hope God gives me another wondrous animal so that we can share beautiful moments together. I want to end this post with a poem my aunt found on the Internet, and the picture she made to accompany the text:
I was chosen today,
I'm learning to fly,
The world took me away,
but please don't you cry.
And I chose you today
to try and be strong
so please don't you cry
and don't say that I'm gone.
When you're feeling alone,
just remember our love.
I'm up near the stars,
looking down from above.
Remember our love,
In a moment you'll see,
that I'm still here beside you
when you're thinking of me.
I'm learning to fly,
The world took me away,
but please don't you cry.
And I chose you today
to try and be strong
so please don't you cry
and don't say that I'm gone.
When you're feeling alone,
just remember our love.
I'm up near the stars,
looking down from above.
Remember our love,
In a moment you'll see,
that I'm still here beside you
when you're thinking of me.
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I grew up with parakeets who were always named Chico! Such a SWEET POST!
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