After the Evil Committee meeting I ran into the manager of the Patient Education Center in the hospital lobby.
"Everybody's looking for you," she said.
I laughed because no one ever looks for me.
"No, really. A bunch of lawyers are here and they're dying to talk to you. We've been calling everybody, trying to track you down."
Oh lord. I was already late but I allowed her to call the office where the lawyers were going over things with Risk Management. Two very handsome, well-dressed white male lawyers trotted into the Ed Ctr and we found a private office to go over things.
Turns out I have to give dispositions anyway -- and here I thought Risk Management was going to take care of it, like they always do. So now I've got about three zillion documents to read and "refresh my memory" with.
I was almost late for the women's chorus rehearsal, but I have my priorities!
Monday, July 14, 2008
Low Humidity Monday or Blogs
I am officially addicted to blogs. It all started when I signed up for Google alerts for parrots. Google sends me news items and various bits and pieces from the internet any time parrots are mentioned. One post was about a little cockatiel who was bleeding from the mouth and the owners rushed it to the vet's. I clicked on the entry and ended up at Incremental Degrees. I bookmarked the site and clicked the next day to see how the bird was doing -- the bird was fine, though no one knows what happened. And the writer of the blog is a very, very good writer so every once in awhile I'd stop by to see what was going on in their life.
A year or so later another Google alert mentioned Parrot Musings, so I started reading that one, too.
And last year I started my own blog, out of boredom at work primarily. Then I stopped until about a month ago.
Then, somehow I don't recall, a few weeks ago I stumbled on ERnursey's site and I've been reading blogs ever since.
A year or so later another Google alert mentioned Parrot Musings, so I started reading that one, too.
And last year I started my own blog, out of boredom at work primarily. Then I stopped until about a month ago.
Then, somehow I don't recall, a few weeks ago I stumbled on ERnursey's site and I've been reading blogs ever since.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Unrequited Love
Flash and Sugar Franklin are both on the back of the couch. Flash has moved to about 8 inches of Sugar. Any closer and she hisses and snaps at his tail. Sugar thinks she's a human and doesn't want to be bothered by some "bird." Poor Flash. She's just snapped at him so hard he flew off to stand on her cage with Nicholas. Even from there he watches her.
Nicholas is a different story. When I first saw Nicholas he was in the lobby cage at the avian vet's office. He looked like no cockatiel I'd ever seen -- grey with all his feathers curled up, and he was very thin. But with bright eyes and a lot of energy. I asked what was wrong with him and everyone said they couldn't find anything wrong with him, and I knew my vet wouldn't put him in the lobby if he was sick.
He always shrieked at Sugar Franklin, and when we would leave the clinic I would hear him call after us in the parking lot. Poor thing was in love with Sugar, I thought.
A year or so later one of the vets asked if I wanted him. His curled feathers had molted out to be replaced with a sleek soft plumage, and he still proclaimed his love for Sugar loudly. She, of course, ignored him.
The vet assured me there was nothing chronically wrong with him; he'd been through all the tests. He was thought to be 13 to 15 years old. One of the vets had rescued him from a woman who bred cocktiels but never cleaned cages and smoked two or three packs of cigarettes a day and kept him on a seed-only diet. Poor thing should have been dead. He weighed about 68 grams.
So I took him home in his old ratty cage, which I threw out as soon as I got him settled in one of my nicer ones.
Once he realized Sugar was "not interested" he eased up on the shrieking, and just a few months ago I learned he was given to me because he shrieked at everybody. And here I thought it was because he loved Sugar.
He always calls a different call when someone pulls into the driveway or steps onto the porch, even if I can't hear him. He's better than a dog about that. He's up to 78 grams now and is still bright-eyed and rarely stands still. I've had him several years now, and I love him dearly for his enthusiasm and optimism. He has loud calls and moderate calls; he loves to do the wolf whistle, only he messes up the first two notes. Charli doesn't like Nicholas' loud calls, and she'll chirp loudly at Nicholas to shut him up. Which rarely works.
Sugar Franklin, by the way, is drinking her special water but only when she's so thirsty she can't avoid it. She'll take a drink, look up at me, and then back away from the dish. Poor baby. I tasted the water and there is a very, very slight trace of vinegar.
I'm sure Flash would rescue her from water with vinegar and honey in it, if only she'd let him.globe_blogs.gif
Nicholas is a different story. When I first saw Nicholas he was in the lobby cage at the avian vet's office. He looked like no cockatiel I'd ever seen -- grey with all his feathers curled up, and he was very thin. But with bright eyes and a lot of energy. I asked what was wrong with him and everyone said they couldn't find anything wrong with him, and I knew my vet wouldn't put him in the lobby if he was sick.
He always shrieked at Sugar Franklin, and when we would leave the clinic I would hear him call after us in the parking lot. Poor thing was in love with Sugar, I thought.
A year or so later one of the vets asked if I wanted him. His curled feathers had molted out to be replaced with a sleek soft plumage, and he still proclaimed his love for Sugar loudly. She, of course, ignored him.
The vet assured me there was nothing chronically wrong with him; he'd been through all the tests. He was thought to be 13 to 15 years old. One of the vets had rescued him from a woman who bred cocktiels but never cleaned cages and smoked two or three packs of cigarettes a day and kept him on a seed-only diet. Poor thing should have been dead. He weighed about 68 grams.
So I took him home in his old ratty cage, which I threw out as soon as I got him settled in one of my nicer ones.
Once he realized Sugar was "not interested" he eased up on the shrieking, and just a few months ago I learned he was given to me because he shrieked at everybody. And here I thought it was because he loved Sugar.
He always calls a different call when someone pulls into the driveway or steps onto the porch, even if I can't hear him. He's better than a dog about that. He's up to 78 grams now and is still bright-eyed and rarely stands still. I've had him several years now, and I love him dearly for his enthusiasm and optimism. He has loud calls and moderate calls; he loves to do the wolf whistle, only he messes up the first two notes. Charli doesn't like Nicholas' loud calls, and she'll chirp loudly at Nicholas to shut him up. Which rarely works.
Sugar Franklin, by the way, is drinking her special water but only when she's so thirsty she can't avoid it. She'll take a drink, look up at me, and then back away from the dish. Poor baby. I tasted the water and there is a very, very slight trace of vinegar.
I'm sure Flash would rescue her from water with vinegar and honey in it, if only she'd let him.globe_blogs.gif
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Vinegar, Honey, and Water
I mixed up the first batch for Sugar this morning and I do see evidence that she's at least stuck her beak in it -- a few soggy pellets. I'll probably have to change her water bowl eight times a day. But that's okay. Dr. Z said all of Sugar's lab work looked "fantastic." I told Sugar the news but she just continued preening.
This morning Nicholas and Flash were fighting beak to beak about whatever manly cockatiel thing male cockatiels fight about. I tapped on the cage (gently) and told them to hush. This scared poor Flash to death. He jumped, crest in alarm mode, and stared as if I'd just placed a hawk in the cage. I talked to him and put my hand in the cage and he bit me - first time ever. So I left him alone and went to the grocery and ran errands.
When I got back he was back to his shy, scared self. He's never liked anyone to touch him, including me. Breaks my heart, but I love him anyway.
Charli is diligently chewing up her roll of adding machine tape, her most favorite toy in the world (and cheap too!). She's never tried to make a nest of it; she just chews it into long strips that end up on the bottom of her cage or on my floor.
I've got about three more loads of laundry to do and then make a trip to Wal-Mart, which I've been putting off for about month -- I hate shopping at Wal-Mart unless it's three in the morning.
Then fill up the car with gas, and I'm really dreading that! Gas is $4.15 here now. Well, I'm sure Bush and Cheney need the money more than me . . . grrrrrr
We're on the verge of a big ole' thunderstorm, which I love. We've had thunder for about 10 minutes and it's started raining. Yea!
This morning Nicholas and Flash were fighting beak to beak about whatever manly cockatiel thing male cockatiels fight about. I tapped on the cage (gently) and told them to hush. This scared poor Flash to death. He jumped, crest in alarm mode, and stared as if I'd just placed a hawk in the cage. I talked to him and put my hand in the cage and he bit me - first time ever. So I left him alone and went to the grocery and ran errands.
When I got back he was back to his shy, scared self. He's never liked anyone to touch him, including me. Breaks my heart, but I love him anyway.
Charli is diligently chewing up her roll of adding machine tape, her most favorite toy in the world (and cheap too!). She's never tried to make a nest of it; she just chews it into long strips that end up on the bottom of her cage or on my floor.
I've got about three more loads of laundry to do and then make a trip to Wal-Mart, which I've been putting off for about month -- I hate shopping at Wal-Mart unless it's three in the morning.
Then fill up the car with gas, and I'm really dreading that! Gas is $4.15 here now. Well, I'm sure Bush and Cheney need the money more than me . . . grrrrrr
We're on the verge of a big ole' thunderstorm, which I love. We've had thunder for about 10 minutes and it's started raining. Yea!
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Later that Night . . .
Got some rude boilerplate e-mail from GoDaddy, so I sent e-mail to the prez.
Sugar Franklin was a tyrant at the vet's today; screaming and fussing as if her wings were being sawed off with a pocket knife. I had her tested for everything; she's ten years old and hasn't had blood work for about five or six years now. Plus a gram stain and urinalysis. We had to wait about 20 minutes for her to poop/pee for a sample -- nothing like standing around waiting for an angry cockatiel to poop.
Her weight was 108, so no worries there.
$186.00. These birds are going to bankrupt me. But it's far cheaper than having blood work done every year. Dr. Z says the trend now is to not do blood work every year unless something is up; only every few years. Easier on the birds and easier on the wallet. Results tomorrow.
Dr. Z just called; the urinalysis was fine but the gram stain showed some budding yeast. So I'm to give her 1 teaspoon of organic vinegar in 4 ounces of distilled water with two drops of honey a day for two weeks (or offer it; I can't make her drink it). And come back in two weeks. No problem but Sugar uses a water bottle and I'll bet the honey will clog up the spout. She'll just have to get used to a bowl for two weeks.
Now I'm going to eat some Haagen Das and watch Gray's Anatomy and Hopkins. Keep your fingers crossed the GoDaddy pres gets to the bottom of my stolen domain name.
Sugar Franklin was a tyrant at the vet's today; screaming and fussing as if her wings were being sawed off with a pocket knife. I had her tested for everything; she's ten years old and hasn't had blood work for about five or six years now. Plus a gram stain and urinalysis. We had to wait about 20 minutes for her to poop/pee for a sample -- nothing like standing around waiting for an angry cockatiel to poop.
Her weight was 108, so no worries there.
$186.00. These birds are going to bankrupt me. But it's far cheaper than having blood work done every year. Dr. Z says the trend now is to not do blood work every year unless something is up; only every few years. Easier on the birds and easier on the wallet. Results tomorrow.
Dr. Z just called; the urinalysis was fine but the gram stain showed some budding yeast. So I'm to give her 1 teaspoon of organic vinegar in 4 ounces of distilled water with two drops of honey a day for two weeks (or offer it; I can't make her drink it). And come back in two weeks. No problem but Sugar uses a water bottle and I'll bet the honey will clog up the spout. She'll just have to get used to a bowl for two weeks.
Now I'm going to eat some Haagen Das and watch Gray's Anatomy and Hopkins. Keep your fingers crossed the GoDaddy pres gets to the bottom of my stolen domain name.
Busy Thursday
It's always rain or drought. It's been so calm and peaceful and under control the past month, then, just like that, things are getting crazy busy again.
Fired off an official fax to GoDaddy about my site, which I fully expect to be restored to me since they ILLEGALLY sold it to someone else (no, it was not up for renewal).
Finished one project at work yesterday, and had twice as much more work dumped on me every day this week.
Start physical therapy next week for my shoulder; my PA said it would probably hurt as much or more than the original pain. Gee, I can't wait.
In less than a month I'll be at Vermont College of Fine Arts for their post-graduate week-long residency. Of course, I've barely gotten my poems in on time to be included in the workshop books -- four new ones (bad) and two old ones (not bad) -- and am in no way ready to go anywhere. It's been 18 years and I don't know if I can still write good poetry. I used to be very, very good but quit for several reasons. JBH, my mentor here, was thrilled when I called him about going back to Vermont, so I'm holding on to his good energies.
I'm flying, which I dread because of the way airlines treat passengers. Plus I'm determined to fit 7 days' worth of clothes and sundries into two small carry-ons. All I need are tee-shirts and shorts and underwear.
Today is the Staff Senate, and all the newbie senators will be attending -- all innocent and full of faith and good will. Just wait till reality sinks in.
Summer chorus rehearsals will begin this coming Monday for the women who tape the practice CDs and "spot," i.e., be sure the tapers are singing the right notes. I agreed to learn how to be a spotter, so Monday night is shot.
Tomorrow is T's birthday, so R and I are taking her out to nice lunch.
O gave me another "difficult" piano piece to learn. Sigh . . . I don't have enough fingers to play all those notes! She says I'm doing very well, but it doesn't sound that way to me.
And at 5 o'clock today, Sugar is due at the vet's for her blood draw. Her weight is up to 115, whereas it's normally 108 or thereabouts. The vet said she's probably getting to lay an egg, but that was last week and there have been no eggs. That means either that Sugar is gaining weight and I'll have to put her on a diet, or something horrible I don't even want to think about. We'll see today.
All the birds got some Harrison's birdie bread last night and I ate some Haagen-Das, so a good time was had by all.
Fired off an official fax to GoDaddy about my site, which I fully expect to be restored to me since they ILLEGALLY sold it to someone else (no, it was not up for renewal).
Finished one project at work yesterday, and had twice as much more work dumped on me every day this week.
Start physical therapy next week for my shoulder; my PA said it would probably hurt as much or more than the original pain. Gee, I can't wait.
In less than a month I'll be at Vermont College of Fine Arts for their post-graduate week-long residency. Of course, I've barely gotten my poems in on time to be included in the workshop books -- four new ones (bad) and two old ones (not bad) -- and am in no way ready to go anywhere. It's been 18 years and I don't know if I can still write good poetry. I used to be very, very good but quit for several reasons. JBH, my mentor here, was thrilled when I called him about going back to Vermont, so I'm holding on to his good energies.
I'm flying, which I dread because of the way airlines treat passengers. Plus I'm determined to fit 7 days' worth of clothes and sundries into two small carry-ons. All I need are tee-shirts and shorts and underwear.
Today is the Staff Senate, and all the newbie senators will be attending -- all innocent and full of faith and good will. Just wait till reality sinks in.
Summer chorus rehearsals will begin this coming Monday for the women who tape the practice CDs and "spot," i.e., be sure the tapers are singing the right notes. I agreed to learn how to be a spotter, so Monday night is shot.
Tomorrow is T's birthday, so R and I are taking her out to nice lunch.
O gave me another "difficult" piano piece to learn. Sigh . . . I don't have enough fingers to play all those notes! She says I'm doing very well, but it doesn't sound that way to me.
And at 5 o'clock today, Sugar is due at the vet's for her blood draw. Her weight is up to 115, whereas it's normally 108 or thereabouts. The vet said she's probably getting to lay an egg, but that was last week and there have been no eggs. That means either that Sugar is gaining weight and I'll have to put her on a diet, or something horrible I don't even want to think about. We'll see today.
All the birds got some Harrison's birdie bread last night and I ate some Haagen-Das, so a good time was had by all.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Piano Woman
Tonight is my weekly piano lesson. My teacher is a young woman from Russia who has X-number of degrees in musicology and is also the pianist for the women's chorus I'm in. When she fusses at me her accent is so thick I usually can't tell what she's saying. But she's a good teacher and good person and a great musician and I think she's great.
She won't be pleased tonight. She gave me three pieces to do, one of which is "difficult" at my level, and I haven't been able to do it. The notes are all weird -- like playing middle C with the left hand instead of the right. But she'll explain it and I'll learn it and it might even make sense.
Or not.
I got my committee assignment today for the upcoming Staff Senate: Staff Issues, which is a bummer since most of the people on that committee and the chair don't believe there are any staff issues.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Monday, Monday
I took off Thursday so naturally I had to pay for it today. I walk into my office and there are 9 pieces of work that had been faxed to me (four of which have already been taken care of and are duplicates but no one knows why they were resent to me, and three of them were filled with scrawls no one is able to decipher), a stack of mail, about 30 e-mails, and a subpoena for some documents.
Got the subpoena dealt with, then slogged through the rest of it. Then it was time for The Retreat.
I work for a hospital, shuffling papers for administration. I do not come within five miles of a patient and maybe talk to a physician once every other month or so. My office is three miles off-site. I deal in language; I do not comprehend data collection and core measures and quality indicators and percentages and so on that goes on in any medical organization. So naturally, The Retreat was all about quality indicators and core measures and how we're all a "team." There have been some reorganizations (surprise; they only reorganize once a year), so we got to see the new "organ" charts so we would know who is most important this week. My favorite part was one of the administrators saying how important it is to motivate and appreciate staff. Right.
Mr. Perky (not his real name, of course) was there. I call him Mr. Perky because he's always upbeat and happy and full of positive thinking. He's one of the lower level administrators and since he makes over $100,000 a year I guess he's got a right to be perky. I bet he feels appreciated and motivated.
They encouraged us to voice our concerns and ask questions, so several people mentioned that we need more staff and more cooperation from the clinical folks. Don't worry, said the administrators, we're going to take care of it. Interpretation: We will continue to need more staff and cooperation from the clinical folks (who also need more help).
The Retreat was supposed to be over at 5, but of course the administrators kept talking until 5:20, at which point I just got up and left with a couple of other folks. There was absolutely no reason for me to be there. None. But I can't say so lest people think I have a "bad" attitude. $100,000 a year would help my attitude a whole lot.
I had to stop at Wal-Mart where they didn't have the frame I was looking for, so I got dinner to go from Subway. My parrots like the bread and lettuce and cheese (in teeny tiny amounts) from Subway. It's Monday, which means House is on so all is not lost!
Hmmm . . . wonder what House would have done in today's retreat . . . .
Got the subpoena dealt with, then slogged through the rest of it. Then it was time for The Retreat.
I work for a hospital, shuffling papers for administration. I do not come within five miles of a patient and maybe talk to a physician once every other month or so. My office is three miles off-site. I deal in language; I do not comprehend data collection and core measures and quality indicators and percentages and so on that goes on in any medical organization. So naturally, The Retreat was all about quality indicators and core measures and how we're all a "team." There have been some reorganizations (surprise; they only reorganize once a year), so we got to see the new "organ" charts so we would know who is most important this week. My favorite part was one of the administrators saying how important it is to motivate and appreciate staff. Right.
Mr. Perky (not his real name, of course) was there. I call him Mr. Perky because he's always upbeat and happy and full of positive thinking. He's one of the lower level administrators and since he makes over $100,000 a year I guess he's got a right to be perky. I bet he feels appreciated and motivated.
They encouraged us to voice our concerns and ask questions, so several people mentioned that we need more staff and more cooperation from the clinical folks. Don't worry, said the administrators, we're going to take care of it. Interpretation: We will continue to need more staff and cooperation from the clinical folks (who also need more help).
The Retreat was supposed to be over at 5, but of course the administrators kept talking until 5:20, at which point I just got up and left with a couple of other folks. There was absolutely no reason for me to be there. None. But I can't say so lest people think I have a "bad" attitude. $100,000 a year would help my attitude a whole lot.
I had to stop at Wal-Mart where they didn't have the frame I was looking for, so I got dinner to go from Subway. My parrots like the bread and lettuce and cheese (in teeny tiny amounts) from Subway. It's Monday, which means House is on so all is not lost!
Hmmm . . . wonder what House would have done in today's retreat . . . .
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Sunday Afternoon
I've had a wonderful anti-social day. I've spent it reading Carved in Stone and reading more medical blogs. I fiddled around with my blog, changing the colors and layout.
I had all the birds out at different times, then I gave them all dishes of water for baths. Charli and Sugar really got into theirs; the Bobbsey Twins just stood on the edge of the bowl and looked at the water.
The next door neighbor had a visitor who left their car running and their car radio blasting out that bass THUMP THUMP THUMP at 700 decibels. I finally had to go over there and ask them to turn the damn thing down. Who leaves their car running for over 30 minutes these days anyway?
While I was out I found an unlit firecracker in the front yard. Then I went around the house to be sure none of last night's fireworks hit my house.
I've been leaving the television off on weekends until about 9pm, and it's amazing how much more I get done and how much less frazzled I feel. I do keep the radio on at a low volume, tuned to NPR though.
Tomorrow at work we're having a "retreat," and I've been dreading it for a week. Three hours of "positive" talk and reminders to work harder and do more with less and how we're all great people -- never mind that they pay us the bare minimum. Just be positive about it, okay? grrrr
I had all the birds out at different times, then I gave them all dishes of water for baths. Charli and Sugar really got into theirs; the Bobbsey Twins just stood on the edge of the bowl and looked at the water.
The next door neighbor had a visitor who left their car running and their car radio blasting out that bass THUMP THUMP THUMP at 700 decibels. I finally had to go over there and ask them to turn the damn thing down. Who leaves their car running for over 30 minutes these days anyway?
While I was out I found an unlit firecracker in the front yard. Then I went around the house to be sure none of last night's fireworks hit my house.
I've been leaving the television off on weekends until about 9pm, and it's amazing how much more I get done and how much less frazzled I feel. I do keep the radio on at a low volume, tuned to NPR though.
Tomorrow at work we're having a "retreat," and I've been dreading it for a week. Three hours of "positive" talk and reminders to work harder and do more with less and how we're all great people -- never mind that they pay us the bare minimum. Just be positive about it, okay? grrrr
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Big Scary Purple Vet Tape
Yesterday I bought some vet wrap to put on Sugar's sandy perch. She watched me remove the perch, wrap the tape all around the perch, then put the perch back. Would she go into her cage? No -- something scary in there! So I stroked the perch and talked to Sugar and petted the perch to show it wasn't going to eat me -- but she wasn't convinced. This morning I saw that she was walking under the perch and running around on the perch side of the cage, so I figured she wasn't too scared.
Around noon I had lunch with a friend, and when I got home there was Sugar, sitting on the purple vet-wrapped perch! Just as pretty as you please, preening her beautiful self.
So I went into the kitchen and made a big batch of Harrison's birdie bread, which my birds love more than Nutriberries, which I didn't think was possible.
It's so hot and humid today I don't think I'll go back out. I've been invited to a big cookout party in an adjoining town but I don't want to get caught in the rain, and the humidity and heat just make me miserable.
I bought the book Carved in Sand, so I think I'll stay home, curl up, and read that.
But the damn idiots with fireworks around here aren't going to let that happen. After hearing two blasts that shook my patio doors I called the police. Who showed up about an hour later. Very nice but the fireworks were over by then. No broken glass though, which is good.
Around noon I had lunch with a friend, and when I got home there was Sugar, sitting on the purple vet-wrapped perch! Just as pretty as you please, preening her beautiful self.
So I went into the kitchen and made a big batch of Harrison's birdie bread, which my birds love more than Nutriberries, which I didn't think was possible.
It's so hot and humid today I don't think I'll go back out. I've been invited to a big cookout party in an adjoining town but I don't want to get caught in the rain, and the humidity and heat just make me miserable.
I bought the book Carved in Sand, so I think I'll stay home, curl up, and read that.
But the damn idiots with fireworks around here aren't going to let that happen. After hearing two blasts that shook my patio doors I called the police. Who showed up about an hour later. Very nice but the fireworks were over by then. No broken glass though, which is good.
Friday, July 4, 2008
Fourth of July
I've had a quiet day -- on purpose. I went to Target for some vet tape to tape Sugar's sandy perch -- she has a callous on her right foot and the vet said to wrap it, While I was there I picked up a bunch of junk food. After I wrapped the perch I put Sugar back in her cage with results you probably guessed -- she wouldn't go near it. In fact, later in the afternoon she took a nap on the floor of the cage beneath the perch in order to avoid it. There's another cloth perch in her cage so she's got plenty of things to climb on. I hope she gets used to the tape.
I'm still dumbfounded that my ex-friend might give a bird to that woman who doesn't know how to treat birds. But I keep reminding myself that there's nothing I can but hope it all works out for the best of the birds.
I called my friend's father, even though I'd only met him once. He sounded broken. I told him I had been friends with his daughter, that she was a remarkable person, and that I'll miss her very much. Then I told him to take very good of himself and we hung up. Now all afternoon I've been wondering if he's all alone in that big house. I hope not.
It's after five and I've got all three cockatiels out; Sugar's on my shoulder, Flash is sitting on Sugar's cage door, and little Nicholas is sitting by my side, watching me type. Charli is in her cage since she believes cockatiels should be personally removed from the universe.
I didn't go to the big downtown festivities this year; it's been too damp and dreary -- plus huge crowds wear me out. Besides, I've discovered and become addicted to hospital and emergency nursing blogs and could spend hours reading them.
Soon there will be the usual fireworks in the neighborhood and I'll have to deal with four little birds who get scared of the big booming noises. Ah well, it'll be over soon enough.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Friendship and Death
A friend of mine and her mother were killed Monday in a terrible auto accident. She left behind three parrots that were her pride and joy. Her father isn't that crazy about birds, so an ex-friend of mine said she'd take them until homes could be found -- which was a blessing. But it's not easy to find good homes for a parrot -- with people who know how to care for parrots and how to deal effectively with their behavior.
I saw on a listserv that an old friend of the deceased wanted one of the birds, only this person is known for mistreating her birds. My ex-friend knows this yet was encouraging on the listserv. I'm just broken hearted, first to lose my friend and then to think that one of her beloved parrots might be going to this inappropriate person.
We so desperately need a parrot rescue and adoption facility here; the nearest ones I'd trust a bird to are in North Carolina and Cleveland. I've talked to a couple of friends about opening a branch of a nationally known bird adoption center here, but none of us have the time or the money or can find enough people to make it work.
Today was time for Sugar Franklin's annual well-bird exam; she looks good, but we'll do blood work on Thursday (holiday messes up delivery times so we couldn't do it today). She's been sleepy and quiet since we got home. She's all tucked in and sound asleep now, like the other three.
Tonight some fool has been firing off fireworks here in the subdivision. Just noise and smoke. I imagine him (of course it's a man) standing in the street lighting these things and hoping everyone sees him, as if the noise and smoke and light are a direct indicator of his maleness. But it's just annoying and dangerous and stupid.
I keep wondering what those three parrots have been thinking -- their "mom" vanishing and then being moved from their home into a new place. We know parrots grieve, but we also know they're adaptable. I hope they'll be okay.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)